It's Fashion Week here in Gotham. If this clusterfuck of activity were a fragrance it would be overtones of little sleep and even less food with notes of weather-inappropriate outfits and a slight musk of low-self esteem due to proximity to models. I mean, guys, it's an absolute gas.
Anyway, that's my excuse for being rather quiet this week. But look, if anyone desperately needs advice on what Olivia Palermo will be wearing come September, I'm your gal (Hint: large hats and fur).
OK, so! You might be wondering what the subject line of this blog means. I will tell you right now, since you have been so patient.
|This is what comes up if you Google "baby in a wedding dress."|
Those that know me well (or, um, have seen me in person or pictures) tell me I happen to look a lot younger than my 27.5 years. Fact: while flying home to DC during college, I got asked by the stewardess if I were old enough to sit in the exit row. I'm not exactly sure what the minimum age is for the privilege of the extra leg room, but I'm pretty sure I surpassed it by like ... 10 years.
When I was younger (read: not yet legally allowed to drink alcohol), my cherubic cheeks were a bit of a disadvantage. Sneaking into bars was not really my forte. But as soon as I turned 21, my irritation pretty much evaporated and I silently thanked my Italian and Filipino ancestors for my genes. And just in case you're wondering, I started using night creme during college and I always wear an SPF during the day. For all of your brides-to-be -- and anyone else for that matter -- I strongly urge you to do the same.
Now, I hope that I look a little bit older than I did in college, but popular opinion still seems to place me squarely in my teenage years. I'm not complaining, exactly; if I can always look about 10 years younger than I actually am, that sounds like a winning situation. And so far, no one has tried to arrest Mike for his child bride. But it has led to some interesting first reactions from people who find out I'm engaged. Generally, the situation goes one of two ways:
1) The direct approach: "You're getting MARRIED? How old are you?!" Luckily, when I say 27, that seems to satisfy most people's worries. But I do wonder: what if I WERE 17? Then what would you say? Would I get berated by absolute strangers? I mean, it's New York, I wouldn't put it past anyone.
2) The subtle approach: In this scenario, we chat about mundane wedding details like the date, how long I've known my fiance, etc and then about halfway through the conversation, someone goes, "So, um, how old are you?" When I answer, there's generally a visible exhale of relief from the other party.
I probably am not having as much fun with this as I should be. I think the next time someone asks, I'm gonna straight up say I'm 16 and tell them that I'm pregnant with twins.