I have quite unashamedly lifted this photo within this series of photos from the Telegraph.
I also think some of the bridesmaids costumes are particularly fetching. But perhaps this one takes the Michael more than most:
wherein the co-ordination between dresses and curtains follows the very best possible advice.
From a monkey.
14 comments:
Oh you jest Sir, but I have photographed weddings that would make your eyes bleed.
Sky blue dresses with scarlet sashes was one of my favourite. They burned an afterglow onto the retina that didn't disappear for days. Every time I fired my flashgun pigeons fell of nearby buildings (and, as they fell, aimed themselves at the sharp points of iron railings).
Love has a lot to answer for.
OK, bleeding eyes then. I suppose photographer/client privilege would prevent you posting some of the delights you must have witnessed in your career, but that may open up a new one: blackmail.
Now I see why I nicknamed you the Fifth Columnist. You have just undermined years of therapy and counselling by reminding me of Mother's choice of wallpaper for my bedroom just before I was willingly shunted off to boarding school where Matron diagnosed me as suffering from blunt force trauma leading to detached retinas. They didn't have a name for it in those days but given the fact the school allowed me to bunk in an all black coal cellar for the first month, they knew I was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In those days they called it a lack of moral fibre but excused me when they saw a sample of the wallpaper. I was even moved to write poetry but, never mind the fact I had to resort to Braille, I did not know the Latin for, 'It is a glorious and fitting thing to die a virgin in a coal cellar in the defence of taste'.
What is 'Coal Cellar' in latin anyway?
In my day, when I too was sent off to school as a wee lad, and where they taught Latin, and indeed spoke it, (e.g. the grace), I think the Latin for coal cellar was "dormitory". Sounds as though you might have gone to the same sort of delightful establishment that I, (and indeed my contemporaries) attended. My older brother has never recovered from his experiences there.
I wonder if those girls are smiling because they think the matching effect is charming, or perhaps because they get the irony. Also, in the first photo, it looks like when that guy comes down, there will be nothing left of the girl but a grease spot.
Oh poor older brother.
How does one know when one has actually recovered?
I don't really want to get into all this philosophical mumbo jumbo stuff (it is G&T in the Mess time here) but isn't there just the slightest chance that your older brother recovered and we didn't?
Apparently it is all a question of persepctive, which could explain why you became a successful art dealer and I a tired old thug.
Dear Columnist, I think you have missed an important detail, which is that the bridal bouquets also match the wallpaper!
Darn...I was planning on using that fabric for matching tablecloth and draperies chez moi.
But now that's it's all over the internet, there'll be no novelty in it.
Parnassus - "grease spot" - wonderful!
Hippo - no my elder brother suffers deep down. I'm not an art dealer, but an art collector, so it's difficult to judge success at that. Perhaps only when I've sold one of my purchases will I know whether I was lucky or not, with a tiny smidgen of skill.
Mark - you are so right; it's veritable garden of flowers.
Diogenes - you remember the story of the rival hostesses. The one giving the party found out what the other would be wearing, so had her curtains made in the same material. Wearing the curtains etc.
LOL!!! What's wrong with the dresses matching the curtains?? ;)
I wonder if they have any remnant fabrics. Cuz I'd love to get some pillows made, haha.
Loi - I'm sure there's plenty similar out there. Sadly.
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