My photographer said that the 40s could be summed up with an “Oh, my!” and a skirt twirl.
…we’ll see if that comes through in the photos.
- *I am wolf-whistling at myself as I look at this*
Basically, I was born in the wrong decade. My hips belong in the 40s and 50s and my feminist brain belongs in the 60s and 70s. And I think I lost my ovary in the Great War.
This is like the best picture ever. Brian’s inner child was squealing with joy like a greased pig who just outran Christmas dinner. That, and he looks damn sexy. Coolest part: there was no wind while this pic was taken. Whaaaat.
I look forward to the professional images, because if we look this amazing on my iphone, we’re going to look like frickin old movie stars and shit.
Best part for me: I think I ended up looking a lot like my grandma. Must unearth a picture of her for comparison.
Don’t forget, Psychos! Send me emails to tell me how you’re gonna turn my online wedding to Shirtless Ryan Gosling into a drunken love circus! I *just* found out he’s Canadian – what the what?! I didn’t know they made beefcakes that beefy. Deadline is March 31st.