a love that will go down in history - part 3

For previous parts, go here:
Part one: Romeo and Juliet, Cathy and Heathcliffe, and Bonnie and Clyde
Part two: Anthony and Cleopatra, Samson and Delilah, and Lancelot and Guinevere

And now...

Claire's Guide to Bad Fictional and Historical Relationships 

(Part the Third)

Helen and Paris

Ah, the face that launched a thousand ships and that other guy. 

This continues quite nicely from the last set of relationships as, yes that's right kids, one of them was married to someone else, and by getting it on they started a war. 

Oh, but let's not get overly sentimental here. Let's look at the REASON they got together. 

So, the Gods go to this wedding, right, and there's a massive feast, and Eris, Goddess of Spite, decides that she wants to mess with the other girls, because she's not been invited - largely because she's a total buzzkill. So she chucks this golden apple onto the middle of the table, inscribed 'to the fairest'. It's like the extreme version of the bouquet toss. Three Goddesses reach for it - Athena, Aphrodite and Hera. You can imagine that none of these women is the type to just back down. 

They turn to Zeus, king of the Gods, and demand that he decide. Now, he might be a jerk but he's not stupid - he's not going to pick between his wife, his daughter, and his daughter-in-law-who-he-wants-to-bone - so he tells them to go ask Paris. Paris was hanging out on a mountain being a shepherd, because a priest had told his parents that he would be the downfall of Troy, and that he should be killed. But they couldn't do that. So he got dumped on this mountain.

So they go. And of course they all try to bribe their way to victory - Hera offers Paris the chance to be king of Europe and Asia; Athena offers him wisdom and skill in war; and Aphrodite, clearly knowing her audience, offers him the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. Which Paris takes, because you know, why go for something practical when you could be having sex?

Paris decides that he wants Helen without ever having met her, just knowing she's mega-hot. Helen gets NO SAY IN THIS AT ALL.

Here's the thing that Aphrodite didn't mention, or probably care that much about. The most beautiful woman in the world is Helen, Zeus' daughter (conceived whilst he was a swan, with the Queen of another country, yeah myths are fun). And she is married. To the King of Sparta. 

Yes, that's right, Sparta. You know.

 Interesting point: You'll notice that Sparta is landlocked. In the film 'Troy', amongst its other crimes against cinema, Helen and Paris escape by boat. So they are not good at Geography, along with History, Mythology and scriptwriting.

So Paris decides to kidnap her - whilst visiting Sparta on a diplomatic mission no less! - and takes her back to Troy (maybe using a boat at some point, but not climbing out of a window and down cliffs directly into a boat like in the movie because COME ON). And naturally, Menelaus, her husband, is a bit narked about all this. 

Oh, but here's the kicker. Because Helen was so beautiful, and all her suitors were so powerful, her (adoptive) Father made all her suitors swear loyalty to whomever he chose as her husband. So not only did he upset SPARTA, but he also had basically every army in Greece coming after him because of this oath.

Thus begins the Iliad. At first, Paris tries to fight it out with Menelaus because he realises he's made a bit of a cockup, politically speaking, but Menelaus hands his ass to him and Aphrodite whisks him away before he gets turned into a Paris of a different gender. Transported back to his bedroom where Helen is, Aphrodite then forces - that's right forces - Helen to be with him, after she is shot by one of Eros' arrows.

Things suck a bit for Helen - she's gone from being Queen of a country that was pretty stellar for Women's Rights, to being forced to shack up with a rubbishy little prince who spent his entire life living on a mountain and staging bullfights for money.

And this war? Lasted like 9 years. And it was a siege, so she couldn't even exactly go on day trips, she was trapped in the city with this little oik for 9 years. And over the course of it basically everybody died. It was a mess.

And then Paris gets killed towards the end of the war, but does that end it? Oh no! Can't let Helen go back to her husband now, it's a matter of principle! Nope, instead they marry her off to one of Paris' brothers instead. Just, y'know, whatever.

After all this, the Greeks pull the Trojan Horse thing, get inside, and just wreck the place. Like murdering and raping basically everyone, and chucking babies off the city walls and everything. It's not nice. Not nice at all. There are mixed stories as to where Helen stood during this - The Odyssey says she tortured the Greek soldiers by mimicking the voices of their wives back home; The Iliad says she performed Bacchic rites with the Trojan women. The Aeneid says that she hides her new husband's sword (Paris' brother, remember), so that he gets hacked to bits by her actual husband and is unable to defend himself, which is terribly Spartan of her. 

Menelaus finds her, and is about to kill her, but instead she drops her clothes and he realises that she's too beautiful to kill. So back to Sparta she goes! 

The lesson here: Consent is important, kids! Or it could get messy!

Alternative lesson: When all else fails, just get your boobs out and it will probably be fine.

Body Count: Easily in the hundreds of thousands, plus lots of rapes and other such funtimes.

Gatsby and Daisy

Wow, okay, so, I'm hoping - like seriously hoping - that most people who have read 'The Great Gatsby' know that it really isn't a romance. Like really really. The only reason I'm including this is because I saw it on one of those stupid keepsake wedding frames with the lists of names, I mentioned in post 1 and I was so horrified that I felt it needed to be addressed.

So, Gatsby is this mysterious and extremely wealthy guy who throws all these really hedonistic parties in his huge manor house. And who is totally obsessed with this woman who he dated for a bit in 1917. Who is married to another man and has a kid.

And I mean like SUPER obsessed. Creepy stalker obsessed. His whole lifestyle, his money and his parties are all just to get her to pay attention to him - he followed her to where she lived and bought the house across the bay from her so he could stare creepily at her house from his garden.

THAT IS NOT WHAT NORMAL PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY LIKE SOMEONE, GATSBY.

Anyway, Gatsby gets his new neighbour, Nick, handily Daisy's cousin, to invite Daisy over so they can 'meet by chance'. Lo and behold, they start having an affair. Marvellous! But it's okay, because Daisy's husband, Tom, is also having an affair. So, tit for tat and their child is going to grow up with no issues whatsoever because it's not like either of them is actually near it for long enough to influence it in any way at all.

And then Daisy and Tom and Gatsby and Nick and this woman called Jordan, who Nick is supposed to be dating but doesn't seem to like all that much, all have tea together and Tom realises Daisy and Gatsby are having an affair. So he forces them all to drive to New York, and rents out a really expensive hotel suite and insists they get drunk and it's all super awkward when he confronts Gatsby, claiming that he and Daisy have a history, and also that Gatsby is a criminal who made his money through bootlegging. And Nick and Jordan are just like wuuuuut.

Suddenly Daisy realises that maybe actually her loyalties lie with her husband after all, but Tom sends her and Gatsby packing to prove that Gatsby can't do anything to him, because Daisy doesn't really love him. Except of course they're all drunk, so this can only end badly. And it does! With Tom's mistress getting run over by Gatsby's car as she attempts to leave her own husband and come and see Tom.

(from the 1949 movie of the book, which is clearly the best movie ever)

Well, that's kinda shitty, right? It get worse. Daisy was driving the car that hit poor old Myrtle up there, but Gatsby takes the fall for her. Tom, still narked at Gatsby, tells Myrtle's husband that Gatsby killed her, and Mr Myrtle promptly marches up to Gatsby's house and shoots him whilst he's chillaxing in his pool, because he also thinks that Gatsby was the one schtupping his wife, rather than Tom. Mr Myrtle kills himself too.

No-one turns up for Gatsby's funeral, and Daisy goes back to Tom where they can now concentrate their joint efforts on wrecking their child.

Body Count: 3. Which for a novel that's only 218 pages is pretty high.



Tristan and Isolde

You knew this relationship was going to end badly from the very start - Wagner wrote an opera about it, so clearly it wasn't going to end in hundreds of sprogs and fluffy bunnies ever after. And also being that it was Wagner and not any other composer, you kind of knew that it was just going to be an awful lot of Not Very Good Bad Awful Things right up until the death as well. Because, you know, Wagner.

This whole shebang starts when Isolde's fiance goes off and gets himself killed by Tristan. Isolde is naturally a bit upset about this. Then she stumbles over this guy who's been mortally wounded and cares for him, until she discovers that it's Tristan. She tries to kill him, but can't actually do it, so instead sends him packing with a flea in his ear, and makes him swear he'll never come back.

So obviously he comes back. And kidnaps her to take to Cornwall so his Uncle, King Marke, can marry her. Because some people just don't know how to return a favour.

Needless to say, Isolde is a bit narked about the whole thing, and makes a fuss the whole journey from Ireland to Cornwall. She keeps demanding that Tristan come see her and apologise, and he keeps sending snotty messages back. In the end, she refuses to get off the ship until Tristan comes to "drink atonement to her". Whilst she's passing this message on via her maid, Brangäne, she also discloses that she reason she wants Tristan to drink with her is so she can slip him a large dose of some nasty poison she brought along with her for just such an occasion, which her maid is more than a little shocked about.

Brangäne convinces Tristan to come down, and prepares the drinks for them. Both Isolde and Tristan drink, Isolde taking half of the potion as well, intending to kill herself. But uh-oh, what's this? Brangäne, redefining drink spiking in her own special way, has switched the poison with a potion that causes immediate and relentless love.

And then they arrive in Cornwall! Where Isolde is to be married! To Tristan's Uncle!

Naturally, of course, Tristan and Isolde sneak around behind everyone's backs and have their affair. Tristan spends a lot of time moping about daytime being awful because they can't be together, and melodramatically declares that because they can only be together at night then they should both kill themselves to enjoy the longest night ever. Then he makes them both dye their hair black and listen to Evanescence for a bit.

They try to hide the way they feel about each other, but Tristan's friend Melot is starting to suspect them anyway.

Melot, of course, shops them to King Marke and then tries to fight Tristan. Tristan refuses to explain why he has betrayed his Uncle, because in the immortal words of every teenager ever, he wouldn't understand! So instead he dives right into this fight, and then chucks away his sword and lets Melot stab him. That's right, he intentionally gets himself all stabbed to pieces.

Tristan's whisked away to France basically before anyone else has a chance to say anything, and Isolde has to trail along behind to try and catch up. Tristan wakes up, and is extremely narked that he is alive, and still in love with Isolde. Considering this is all only happening because he was roofied by Isolde's maid, I think he has a fair right to be miffed. In fact, he gets so upset about this love potion that he drives himself into exhausted delirium, and dies just as Isolde finally makes it to him.

Then King Marke arrives with Melot and Brangäne, and Melot immediately gets killed in a fight with Tristan's servant, who also dies. Marke rocks up, and explains to Isolde that actually he'd come to tell Tristan and Isolde they could get married, because Brangäne explained everything to him, thus making Tristan's melodrama even more daft because if he had just explained himself instead of stomping around like an angry 14-year-old then he'd still be alive.

And then, for no readily apparent reason at all, Isolde also dies. Possibly from all the melodrama.

So, I suppose in theory you could look at it as a happy ending of sorts because Isolde and Tristan end up dead, which had been Isolde's master plan in the beginning. As relationships go, however, murdering a girl's fiance, then kidnapping her for your Uncle, and then only falling in love with her because of some epic date-rape drugging, don't exactly provide the strongest foundations for a healthy future together. Especially when you're in love with someone, and you're angry that you've been drugged to be in love with this person.

Yeah guys, let's keep that in mind. Tristan was pretty angry about the whole thing.

What was that lesson we learned whilst we were at Troy? That's right kids - Consent is good!

Body Count:  5, counting Isolde's fiance, 4 if we don't count him. From a cast of 6 named characters.



Here endeth the lesson in Epic Relationships Which Aren't Really Epic. And to be fair, most of these issues could have been avoided by following three simple rules.

1) Don't cheat
2) Don't kill people
3) Consent consent consent!

All these guys could easily have lived much healthier lives if they'd just said

Honestly though, guys. Seriously. I hope that we have now learned that these are lists of people who we don't want to be associated with, unless it is a list of "people who have the correct number of limbs", or "people who might have eaten cheese once".

And if anyone, anyone tries to tell you that these are romantic stories, and that the only appropriate and correct response is this:

a love that will go down in history - part 2

Claire's Guide to Bad Fictional and Historical Relationships 
(Part the Second)

Previously we covered Romeo and Juliet, Cathy and Heathcliffe, and Bonnie and Clyde!

Anthony and Cleopatra

Okay, so a bit of background. Before she got with Mark Anthony, Cleopatra was pretty hot-and-heavy with Julius Caesar, and had even had a son with him: Caesarion (no, really). He got bumped off, and the Second Triumvirate was formed out of Mark Anthony, Octavian and Lepidus. Now, whilst Cleopatra was busy bumping uglies with Caesar, Egypt was pretty safe from being stomped on by the Romans in any particularly brutal way (See: The Gauls, the Druids, the Carthaginians...) With Caesar dead, suddenly Egypt was vulnerable again, unless Cleopatra could wangle her way into the good graces of any of the three new rulers of the Empire.

Mark Anthony summoned her to visit him, they formed an alliance and sealed the deal as it were. He moved in with her in her love palace in Egypt for a spell and all seemed fine and dandy.

Except, whilst he was busy having fun in the sun with the Queen of the Nile, his wife, Fulvia, was left back in Rome, handling all his political problems for him, particularly with Octavius. Finally, after spending the winter with the other woman, he heads back to Italy to try and help out his wife - who has been exiled during this time - but she dies before he gets there.

This is clearly very unfortunate for Fulvia, but Mark Anthony has just managed to be relieved of his husbandly duties before being caught getting his end away elsewhere. You'd think this might encourage him to be faithful to Cleopatra.

No. Instead whilst he's back in Rome, he married Octavian's little sister, Octavia Minor (no I'm not making this up). 

Then, in the midst of a war with Parthia, Anthony and his new wife go on a jolly to Greece and basically orgy it up in the name of Dionysus. He and Octavian have another little bit of a barney, and in a huff he leaves his pregnant wife (Octavian's little sister, remember, so super-helping his cause here), to go and see Cleopatra again, with whom he's had three kids.

It gets much more complicated than that, and there's a lot of in-fighting, but basically Anthony gets the tar kicked out of him by Octavian, who has forced Lepidus to hand over his third of the power to him, so it was 2:1 odds against Mark Anthony.This squabble continued, with Anthony conquering land and giving bits of it to Cleopatra's children, and Octavian coming along and kicking them about a bit. Octavian eventually got fed up of the whole thing and stomped into Egypt, so Anthony was left with no safe place to hide any more. 

Being a Roman, he felt it best to die with dignity rather than have Octavian give him the monster tactical wedgie he was clearly aiming for. So, assuming that Cleopatra was of a similar mindset, he stabbed himself.

Except. Cleopatra, being as she was, NOT a Roman, (nor, technically speaking, Egyptian, since her family came from Macedonia, but apples and oranges) the idea hadn't occurred to her to top herself. Possibly she'd suddenly become aware that in terms of sexy politics she'd backed the wrong horse, and was hoping Octavian might accept a late entry. Who knows. But Anthony was delivered to her by his friends, and died in her arms.

Cleopatra was then captured by Octavian, who wanted to trot her back to Rome to show off his victory. Apparently she tried to kill herself several times before succeeding, as he had instructed her to be guarded against it. Although she was apparently allowed to conduct the funeral rites on Anthony after her capture, it is stretching it to assume she killed herself in his name.

Oh, and just to round this off, did we mention that prior to becoming sole ruler of Egypt, and her nookie-time with Caesar, she was married to her brother? They got married when he was 10 and she was 18. This was pretty common in Egyptian royal families. She only became Queen because, after being ousted from power in a sibling squabble, her brother-husband Ptolemy pissed off Caesar by decapitating his son-in-law, and then Cleopatra capitalised on this situation by using her sexy 21-year-old wiles to seduce 52-year-old Caesar.

Romantic? Really?

Samson and Delilah

So, Samson and Delilah were a little bit like Romeo and Juliet, except that they were on two different sides of a war rather than a family feud, and she was a spy sent to seduce Samson and find out his weakness, because every time he showed up to battle it was basically like the Hulk taking out a cardboard fort.

The first time she asked him, he lied and said if he was tied up with 7 new bow strings, then he'd be powerless. So she did it, and it didn't work.

The second time she asked him, he lied and said that it would work if she tied him up with 7 ropes. So she did it, and it didn't work.

The third time she asked him, he lied and said that he would be powerless if she plaited the 7 locks of hair on his head. So she did it, and it didn't work.

So she asked him a fourth time. And for some reason this stupid man didn't think that if he told her then, as she had done the previous occasions, she'd actually do it. So he told her the truth. 

GUYS. IF YOU KEEP TELLING A WOMAN HOW TO DEFEAT YOU AND SHE KEEPS TRYING TO DO IT, MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP TELLING HER STUFF.

And delighted, she called in some of her mates to shave off his hair. Oh, and then when he was weak and helpless they blinded him and threw him in a dungeon to rot.Then a few years later, they trotted him out to show him off and his hair had all grown back, and he knocks down the temple with hundreds of people inside it, killing himself in the process.

So, to summarise. She never loved him, she betrayed him and his entire people, and then got him blinded and thrown into the dungeon until he killed himself.

Guinevere and Lancelot

To be honest, integrally this one reads pretty similar to Anthony and Cleopatra in terms of the tick list of bad behaviours. 

Was one of them married to someone else? Check.

Did this affair break an agreement with a close ally? Check.

Did someone end up dead because of it? Check.

We all know that Guinevere was married to King Arthur. Lancelot was King Arthur's most trusted knight. His right hand man. His bro, if you will. So the very fact that the affair happens is pretty crappy to begin with. And it goes on for years. It's only eventually discovered when a feast happens and neither Guinevere or Lancelot bothers to turn up.

But Arthur doesn't take rejection well, and Guinevere is sentenced to burn at the stake (y'know, treason and all). Lancelot isn't super-keen on that idea, rounds up a posse and rides in to save her, and in the process manages to kill the two brothers of Gawain, who'd been the one guy who'd refused to get involved in the whole mess. Gawain, stepping up to Lancelot's position as Right-Hand Knight, and narked that Lancelot had killed his brothers, persuaded Arthur to go to war, because Lancelot broke the cardinal rule of knighthood, Bros before Hos.

Guinevere, left behind with Arthur after Lancelot came along and stomped on everything, is then ditched by just about everyone as the boys go off to have their pissing contest in France, and left in the care of Arthur's illegitimate son Mordred. Who then decides that he wants to marry Guinevere and become king. 

There are then a couple of different versions of how this goes. In one version, Guinevere sees this as a bad deal and locks herself in the Tower of London - followed by hiding out in a convent; in another she decides that Mordred's not quite that bad and agrees to marry him. Arthur gets wind of this, charges back to England and kills Mordred, and then dies himself. Guinevere gets one last meeting with Lancelot, then heads back to her convent. In another version, Guinevere actually decides that Mordred seems like quite a good deal, becomes his consort and has two kids with him.

On the one hand, this is comparatively positive compared to the other relationships listed, because neither of the couple end up dead. On the other, given as there are conflicting views as to whether it ended in a convent or with Guinevere having another man's children, and also a civil war, it can't really be called a romantic success story.

Part three to come, where we will explore the giddying relationships of Helen and Paris, Gatsby and Daisy, and Tristan and Isolde!

a love that will go down in history - part 1

I see a LOT of things around the internet offering couples personalised items that put their names amongst the 'greatest couples' from history and literature.

(from notonthehighstreet.com)

But guys. Most of these relationships, these super famous ones (aside from Hansel and Gretel who were a poor inclusion on the basis of their being SIBLINGS)? Were not really the height of the relationship ladder. Honestly, they are not things I would aim for. In fact I would use most of them as solid examples of How Not To Do Relationships.

Claire's Guide to Bad Fictional and Historical Relationships

Romeo and Juliet

I'm going to start with the most obvious one first because really. Really.

Okay, firstly, it is understood that Romeo is supposed to be about 17 in the play. Juliet is only 13. Immediately, things start to look a hell of a lot less romantic.

At the start of the play, Romeo is pining deeply and tragically after Rosaline. He waxes lyrical about her, her beauty, her wit - blind men, he claims, will only regret being blind because they won't be able to see Rosaline any more. Rosaline isn't quite so keen on him, given as all he seems to do is lollop about the place and pine in that tragically romantic way.

But then! He sees Juliet!

I bet you say that to all the girls. Because he certainly claimed like two scenes before that he thought Rosaline was the niftiest thing since sliced bread, and embraced wholeheartedly the trend of Romantic Pining that so wound up Olivia in Twelfth Night, all posing and posturing. People have argued that this means that he wasn't really in love with Rosaline, and what he had with Juliet was true. I argue that this means he is fickle, and whilst his passions sweep him up intensely, they are then dropped when the next shiny thing distracts him.

And then, in their crash-course relationship that lasts a span of four days, I mean I've got a longer-standing relationship with the guy at my local Subway - two of which he is exiled for, we have this fantastic display:

- Her cousin kills his best friend.
- So obviously he kills her cousin.

This is clearly a man with a broken logic button.

Day one - daytime: Romeo pines over another woman all day. Evening: Romeo meets Juliet whilst gatecrashing.
Day two - they get married, Tybalt kills Mercutio, Romeo kills Tybalt, Romeo is exiled, but first pops by to consummate his marriage.
Day three - Juliet's parents try to marry her off to someone else, so she gets together with the Apothecary and knocks herself out for 42 hours.
Day four - Romeo manages to kill someone else whilst rushing to go see dead!Juliet.

Oh yes, and the crowning glory? The absolute biggest reason ever that this is not a healthy relationship to use as an example? They KILL THEMSELVES.

"But they kill themselves for love! It's romantic!"

Catherine and Heathcliffe

I actually find it a little bit scary that some people read this book and think it is romantic. I mean, honestly. I will admit to never having read it myself, but I've seen adaptations, I've read the Wikipedia page, and I got a running commentary from my bemused and horrified fiance whilst he read it for his PhD.


From everything he'd heard about it, he'd expected it to be a romance. And then when he read it it was basically like this:

This isn't even one that takes close reading. You can bullet point this sucker.

• Catherine won't marry Heathcliffe because even though she loves him she thinks he's not good enough for her.
• Heathcliffe runs off with Cathy's sister-in-law Isabella, even though he hates her, to enact revenge on just about everyone because he is super butthurt that Cathy correctly observed that he was poor and uncouth. He also hangs Isabella's puppy the night they elope. That's right, he's just that kinda guy.
• Cathy dies and Heathcliffe gets really upset.
• Oh and then his wife dies years later, but Heathcliffe doesn't really care about that because she's not Cathy, and he doesn't really give a crap about his son either.
• Heathcliffe also plays cruel mind games with Cathy's brother and reduces him to poverty. Again with revenge.
• He then holds Cathy's daughter - Cathy Mark 2 - hostage while her father dies so that she will marry his son, and her father will never see her again.
• And then he kidnaps Cathy Jr again, after she escapes to go and see her father, and tries to lock her up in Wuthering Heights, instead of the lovely manor house that he now owns, and she becomes a recluse. Oh and his son dies, but that's no big deal really 'cause he wasn't that attached to the little wimp anyway.
• And then he goes a bit (more) mental and dies. And Cathy Jr ends up marrying her cousin, which is actually the least bizarre relationship in this whole book.

 How is this romantic? Never mind that one half of this couple is dead for most of the book. Nowadays, this sort of behaviour would warrant a restraining order fairly early on, and not least a cross visit from the RSPCA.

"Heathcliffe's just so passionate, nothing will stop his love for her!"

 Bonnie and Clyde

So... a pair of killers who made a career out of robbing a dozen banks and more rural gas stations? Who many historians believe viewed their violent deaths as inevitable, so it didn't matter how awful their crimes were? And they were gunned down by police with the deaths of at least 9 officers and several more civilians to their names?

Some historians believe now the Bonnie may even have had a mental disorder that caused her to be attracted to seriously violent men - by the time of her death at 23, she was still married to her husband of 7 years Ray Thornton, who was in prison when she was killed. And when he heard his estranged wife had died, what was his comment? 

"I'm glad they went out like they did. It's much better than being caught."

Not to be a downer here guys, but are we noticing a pattern?  PEOPLE KEEP ENDING UP DEAD.

Are you in a relationship that resembles anything you see above?

Don't see anything for you there? Well that means you could either a) be in a totally normal and healthy relationship, or b) be in a relationship like the ones I haven't covered yet. Oh yes!

Coming up in Part 2 - Anthony and Cleopatra, Samson and Delilah, and Lancelot and Guinevere!

Slow it down, read the sign, so you know just where you're going...!

Apparently one of my two major referrers to the blog is thetaoofbadass.pw  I can't seem to make the return link work, but a bit of googling brings this website up. So. Hello to all you Badass Taoists. If any one of you could tell me how/why/where this is linked on the site, I'd be delighted to know because honestly I can't work out the connection. I really can't.

Aaaannyyway. Back to the point of this post, ably introduced with the immortal words of the Spice Girls - planning too early. Is there such a thing?



One of the problems of having an engagement that is more than twice the length of a Blue Whale's gestation period* is that you are faced with two options. 1) You spend the first chunk of that time just 'enjoying being engaged' until you reach the Average Engagement Threshold (in the UK, this is about 18 months); or 2) you decide that actually you are now about to single-handedly plan the biggest event you will probably ever plan in your life, and maybe you should make the most of your very large window so that you don't get stressed closer to the time.


Well, if you are like me and have been with your boyfriend for 7 years and lived together for 4 years, being engaged is very similar to not being engaged. In fact, I would personally go as far as to say that the two states of being are nigh-on identical. So I decided to follow the latter course of action, and Maximise My Time. Whilst academically I know that a wedding can be planned to everyone's satisfaction in a fairly short length of time, Don't Tell The Bride has frequently shown that such a course of action can reduce even grown men to tears.

And I am, despite all evidence to the contrary, a planner. I like knowing things are sorted, and having a buffer of time to fix things should anything go wrong, as well as plenty of time to mull over things at my leisure without feeling pressured by time constraints. So I began to gather my tools.

I also bought one of those silly planning books, you know the kind, like a giant filofax with flowers on. It wasn't super helpful in terms of planning, because it was a) too big to carry around with me, and b) silly to believe that I'd taken time out from researching on the internet to then write things down by hand in my book. Also the timeline was again based on having a maximum 18-month engagement. It did however have lots of handy pockets, which I have been stuffing all my receipts in, and it has some squared pages for doing table plans, which may well be useful later.



But the comment I keep hearing from family, and even Jon, is that they're worried we won't have enough to do next year. That by doing things early we miss out on the fun.

I'm not quite sure why what I'm doing right now only qualifies as 'fun' if it is done with fewer than 12 months to the wedding and not now, but I've never planned a wedding before, what do I know? But, we are now under 14 months from the wedding, and as we approach the 12 month mark I'm starting to get more anxious about just Getting Stuff Done. Things that aren't done are things that are still left to panic about, things that could potentially be more difficult to sort out than expected.

To prove to certain interested parties - mainly my Mother - that I wasn't rushing things, and was instead being Organised, as there were things that couldn't actually be done until closer to the wedding, I made a month-by-month plan of things to do in the next year. And it was all going okay until we hit August, and then things started getting busy. Really busy. So I started shunting things around a bit and basically from next April we're going to need to get a lot of things done month-by-month. We have a bit of a break in June, but otherwise it's busy. But apparently having lots of busy things to do made people feel better that I wasn't depriving Future!Me of some exciting planning funtimes, which is totally worth giving Present!Me anxiety flashes because there are things that need doing but I'm powerless to do them. It's like constantly knowing there was something REALLY IMPORTANT that you had to do, but you know you've forgotten to do it and can't work out what it was. That's what it's like. 

But now, what I'm seeing is a GIANT to-do list, with things on it that I can get done now, like right now, with no major issues, and that would be things off my list. And I'm chomping at the bit to do them, because honestly I learnt my lesson after doing my first all-nighter at University. Leaving things to the last minute DOES suck, it IS much better to get things done early if you can.

And also once I have ticked things off, I can feel suitably smug and pleased with myself, the warm glow of having accomplished something productive, and then focus on my other interests until it fades and the whole vicious cycle starts again.

*Alternatives for measuring the length of my engagment:

• 1.89 Rhinos or Camels
• 89.5 domestic Cats (based on a 4-kitten litter size)
• 1.66 Sperm Whales
• 1.83 Giraffes
• 7.2 Tigers.
• 1 and 3/4 Orcas
• 1 Elephant that's about a month overdue.
• 2/3 of a Black Alpine Salamander, depending how far up the hill it lives
• 59% of a Frilled Shark (but a whole spiny dogfish shark!)

 I don't know why I like to measure things by animal gestation periods, but I find it very fascinating.



How long an engagement did you have? Were you a planner or did you wait it out? Tips and tricks?

it's not about the ba-bling ba-bling - except it totally is.

On a bit of a decision-making high from unexpectedly buying my wedding dress (and possibly still slightly in shock), I decided to ride this wave of absolution for all it was worth, and four days later (okay yes, I didn't say I was completely over my commitment-phobia) I placed an order for my wedding ring.

 (there is a very limited selection of gifs suitable for this situation)

To tell you this story, I'll have to travel back in time a good few months and then take you step-by-step through my crazy ring-based mental processes. Are you ready? Did you make sure to go to the toilet? Have you got a snack?

Right so. All my life I thought I'd just get a plain wedding ring. That's what's the norm for my family, and by and large it's the norm for most of the rest of the UK (although this is changing of late). It would have to be yellow gold, because my mother had been carefully coordinating all my 'good' jewellery since I was about 16. I didn't mind, I liked yellow gold and frankly white gold sounded like a lot of work with all the re-dipping required.

So this is the starting point, for reference:

After a bit of pondering and browsing, Jon said to me one day that he quite fancied a ring with a bit of a Celtic pattern, and showed me this one:

(Clogau's Annwyl Ring)

I was quite taken with this idea, and that we could match - he could have the slightly thicker one and I could have the thinner! I was certain I could find something similar in yellow gold. He also told me that the ring above was by a company - Clogau - who make rings containing Welsh gold. Now, I loved that - wearing a ring made from gold found in the UK. I had recently discovered the Fairmined Gold movement, but had struggled to find vendors who used fairmined gold as a matter of course, and who made products that suited my tastes (although it seems the list appears to be growing, which is wonderful!). Welsh gold seemed a great way around it. That, and the Royal family had worn Welsh gold wedding rings for generations, which I'm sad to say influenced me a little bit more than perhaps I would like to admit.

(I will add, that it was only later I discovered that the amount of Welsh gold in each ring is actually miniscule. Welsh gold is so rare that it only makes up the smallest percentage of any piece of jewellery, but my intentions were pure!)


Anyway, whilst I was browsing their site and becoming ever-more impressed, I noticed a big banner at the top listing a contest. To win this bad boy:

(The Am Byth Ring)

It was BEAUTIFUL. I mean look at it! The intricate vinework, the gorgeous mix of rose and yellow gold, the diamonds! Needless to say I entered the contest. Several times. And got a number of family members to enter on my behalf as well. Because at £2,800 I was never going to be able to buy it. It was totally about as far away from what I wanted as it was possible to be - blingy, intricate, big - but I was utterly in lust.

I didn't win, needless to say. And with a bit of distance, it's probably for the best. But it opened my mind to other ring options, and I began to window-shop some more.


I was adamant that I didn't want a curved band, although realistically that probably would have sat best with my engagement ring. But I wanted something that wouldn't look odd if I wore it on its own.

I'd become more interested in the idea of an engraved band, something a bit vintage-style. Shamefully, I created a pinterest board where I collected my ideas.

Including this beauty:

(Mitchel and Co.)

It was beautiful. And I was convinced it was totally and utterly and completely out of my price range. So I left it there for months, coming back to sigh over it, and then trawling through pages of Etsy engraved rings which all seemed to have millgrain edges or flowers, neither of which I was super fussed on. 

Finally, at the start of July, I worked up the courage to email the jeweler, Mitchel and Co.,  about it. It was in budget! It was amazingly in budget! And the engraving was done by the "best engraver in the industry (he also engraves for the royal family!)" (again, I'm a little ashamed by how pleased I was to learn that). 

I dealt mainly with Charlotte, who was supremely helpful and friendly, and when we took a trip out to the shop, in the Birmingham Jewellery Quarter, they were welcoming, professional and really really helpful. The ring was designed and made in-house, so it was made to my specifications, and I knew where it had been. 

After I first went to the store, it was about two and a half weeks before I worked up the courage to order the ring, and then another month whilst I waited and fretted for it to be done. Would the engraving look okay on yellow gold? What if I hated it? What if it looked rubbish with my engagement ring? What if the diamonds were too much?

WORRYING WAS SILLY. IT'S BEAUTIFUL.

They are now storing it for me, for free, until the big day. I arranged this with them prior to purchase, and having seen the finished product I think it was doubly wise of me. I love it so much, I just want to wear it now. I'd definitely be trying it on all the time if I had it around the house.

I also love how it goes with my engagement ring. The gap doesn't bother me, and I think they look beautifully vintage together! And all for under £400. And did I mention, it's beautiful and I love it? Have I said the word beautiful enough yet in this post?

How early on did you get your wedding ring, guys? Did you always know what you wanted, or did your preferences swing wildly all over the place like me?

DRESS EXCITEMENT round 2

Remember when I didn't buy my wedding dress?

Well, last month, I did.

I found a shop near my home which a) sold the dress I wanted, and b) was conveniently having a sale (yaaay!) This shop is amazing - UK brides, I highly recommend Eternal Bride, in Warwick. I went there at the start of my dress shopping saga (8 stores, roughly forty dresses) and the service was great, so I had been hoping to if possible buy from them.

Tragically, they did not stock a sample of The Dress, but I figured that I'd tried it on 3 times now, so I knew what I looked like in it and it ticked off everything on my list:


- Sweetheart Neckline
- Strapless
- Dropped-waist a-line
- Lace edging on hem (ideally)
- Point d'esprit lace overlay
- A bit of tulle for some floof
- Empire line detailing
- Buttons


SPOILERS: This is not the dress I bought in the end.

I KNOW RIGHT. After all that fuss, after so nearly buying it from London, I picked a totally different dress.

Bear with me.

The dress I thought I loved, for reference, was the amazing Pronovias Berta:

If I am strictly honest with myself, I was still doubting it. The model pictures weren't speaking to me, and I'd been losing enthusiasm and found myself doubting if I would bite the bullet and buy it in the sale or if I'd leave it and just see if I could try it on again, one more time, to see. I had a nagging feeling that something was missing from it, something wasn't quite right, but couldn't quite work it out.

Not pockets.

When I went to the shop I was there to be convinced that there was nothing else out there more perfect for me, and that this was the dress. If it had been, I would have been very happy! But it transpires, it wasn't the case.

I tried on a number of other dresses during this appointment - all different from the Berta, although one had a very similar skirt, which proved handy when it came to decision-time.

The dress I bought was the first one I tried on this appointment, and I was stunned. I looked really good in it, and it fit perfectly!

It looked so elegant, and classy, and it had sleeves - something I'd been avoiding after trying on a few dresses with them at the start of the process which just all looked wrong, sat wrong on my boobs, scratched at my arms... as far as I had been concerned, no good things came with sleeves.

Until this dress.

But as I am prone to overthinking, and believe in nothing so much as the inherent changeability of human nature, I still did not commit. I tried on another dress, and another, and another. Each one a slightly different style.

None like that though.

In the end, we came back to two - one that was close enough to the Berta to use for comparison, but with sleeves (we tucked those in), and the Elegant and Classy dress. (not that the Berta isn't elegant and classy, this is just for differentiation).

And. Man. Goshdarnit. The Elegant and Classy dress made me look super tall and super slim and super elegant. I'd done my hair and makeup properly, and looking in the mirror I got a pretty good idea of what I'd look like for the day.

I didn't get a 'moment', like a flash of knowledge that this was THE ONE dress. But I looked very good in it. And it was light, and so easy to move in compared to the other dresses I'd tried on (including one incredibly weighty Sophia Tolli dress, with an underlayer of silver threads that I couldn't stop thinking about slug trails when I looked at it). All my family there - it was a 21st birthday party for one of my cousins that weekend, so we had a bit of a Family Outing to the dress shop - agreed it was the best dress. And I did hesitate to make a decision, but in the end I bought it.


Looking at it again, this dress is closer to the one I drew years ago, when I was idly pondering what sort of wedding dress I'd want, and also to a number of dresses I pinned on pinterest even though they totally weren't anything like my ticklist, but the pictures spoke to me anyway. I think I got a bit wrapped up in elaborate dresses, a bit distracted by detailing and photos in magazines. Whilst comparatively, what I'd been looking at was simple when held against some of the stuff out there, it was more than what was really 'me'.


From my tick list from above, this is what I walked out with:

- Sweetheart Neckline
- Dropped-waist a-line (sooort of?)
- A bit of tulle for some floof

I am VERY EXCITED about this though. I'm surprised I bought it so early (my plan had been to buy in September at the very earliest), but I think it will work out for the best. 

SO MANY people say you get the 'wow' moment though and guys, I really really didn't. I know I'm over-analytical, I know I overthink more than other people, but honestly I don't think you have to start crying when you've found your dress - and panic that you've made the wrong choice if you don't. I am doing everything in my power to discourage ANYONE crying for ANY reason at wedding related things, because frankly I find the whole thing really really awkward. 

Unfortunately this perhaps means I might not be the most demure and elegant bride...

 ...if it stops people crying, I'm there.

Besides, I'm not sure expressing the VERY REAL concern that with long hair, when you're dancing and get hot and sweaty, it can get stuck under your arms if it's not put up, really deserved the intense recoiling that it got when I mentioned it in the dress shop. THIS IS A REALITY FOR LADIES WITH LONG HAIR. IT CAN'T JUST BE ME THIS HAPPENS TO. IT IS A PRACTICALITY WE HAVE TO THINK OF. I AM JUST SAYING.

Yes, maybe, I could have just said that "I'm having it up because I get too hot with it on the back of my neck", but that would have required thinking before speaking.