Internet, meet my cowboy boots. I bought them a few weeks before I bid Arizona farewell for good, because I had to bring a bit of the West with me in my new life. I’ve traveled by bus, boat, plane, and train in those boots. They’ve been crushed in suitcases and dusted for explosives in the airport and they’ve kicked their way through rain, snow, and dirt. And that was all before I wore them to my wedding.
I didn’t know a lot when Husband and I got engaged. I didn’t know a lot about what our wedding would look like, I mean. Growing up, I assumed it would be in a temple. Although, interestingly, on the few occasions that I tried to picture it, it was always on a beach. And then Husband and I dated for a million years and we always knew we were for forever, but trying to picture the wedding was painful, as interfaith issues always are until you sit down and iron them out. So we didn’t, picture it, I mean, or even really talk about it. One day he got tired of waiting or knew that I was tired of waiting and he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him and I said yes. My head spun for days and my eyes leaked and my chest heaved and my brain screamed, “but where will the wedding be?!” The only thing that kept me from flying to pieces those first few days was the knowledge that Husband would be there and I’d have those boots on my feet.
Husband tried to talk me out of it a few times, because I’m taller than him, you see, and the boots add a good three inches on top of that. When he realized that was a fight he was going to lose, he gave in and bought his own boots with their own sizable heel. He loved them, and encouraged me to buy some new ones for myself. Friends and family that realized I wasn’t going to change my mind on the boots suggested I get some white ones, to match the dress, or at least a new pair, or a flashier pair, or maybe something in the wedding colors. I’ll admit that I considered it, briefly, but it wouldn’t have been the same. I didn’t want to get married in boots. I wanted to get married in my boots. The boots that makes me feel hotter than just about anything else (wedding and honeymoon attire included).
Guess what? You don’t need to buy new things just because you’re getting married. Not if you don’t want to. I don’t think I even dusted mine, and I wore thick unsexy white socks underneath. It was perfect.
Wedding photo credit: Jenn Ireland Photography