Ted and Shay: Bling...

I know about as much about jewelry as I know about everything else (not a hell of a lot).

My search for an engagement ring was a 2 month process. I only knew what Shay wanted because on one of the many post-bottle-of-wine, sitting-on-the-deck-with-Jimena-nights she divulged that if she ever got an engagement ring, she would like an old Art Deco one. Obviously it was time to punch the google machine until it told me what I wanted to know. The only things that came back were always these gaudy gold things that looked like they dropped out of Donald Trump’s ass and cost even more.

I wasn’t done yet though.

I stole a ring from Shay’s very large jewelry drawer while she was at work and walked over to the antique mall down the street. I asked them if they could size it for me. For some weird reason an antique store with enough rings to even make an Italian stereotype shake their head didn’t have a ring sizer. I did however get a recommendation from one of the employees. This was the second recommendation for this particular store I had received. I decided it was time to check it out.

First, I headed to a big “fancy” jewelry store to get the ring sized. A bunch of greasy salesmen in suits surrounded me and asked if I wanted coffee, bagels, plasma, anything. It was like swimming with sharks that wear way too much cologne. I laughed and bluntly told them I just wanted to size the ring and there was no way in hell I was going to buy a 60 dollar ring for three grand from them.

A week later or so, I decided to make the trek out to Hopkins during rush hour (because I’m an idiot). After an hour drive I reached the store everyone told me about.

Anne and Jack’s Vintage Jewelry is like a rich person’s basement. I mean that in a very good way. They had piles and piles of old school jewelry. I knew I hit the jack pot.

A short woman asked what I was looking for. I described what I had overheard Shay drunkenly tell Jimena. She made it easy for me.

She lined the table with all these rings made in the 1920’s and started weeding out the ones I would never be able to afford.

Since she wasn’t a sales lady, she wasn’t trying to sell me anything. During our conversation she swore like a sailor and told me about her nephew in some jam band.

It took a really short time to find the perfect ring that I knew Shay would love.

She did love it and anybody that ever needs a ring should make the trip to Anne and Jacks Vintage in Hopkins….


PS-I do love it, even though this picture we tried to take doesn't do it justice. I love it even more because he didn't go broke following the 1,2, or 3 months salary "rule".  It's a 1920's white gold, diamond ring with the most amazing details, and it's not huge or blinding, just perfect and wonderful (like my ted). I give you permission to go barf now- shay



Ashley & Spenser: New Guest Bloggers

Related Posts with Thumbnails

I am so excited to be a part of Ashley and Spenser's wedding. I met Ashley when she was a bridesmaid in her brother's wedding. Since then I have taken her family's portraits and had the pleasure of running into her at Jena and Brian's wedding. I have fallen in love with her family. Now Ashley and Spenser are getting married and I get to photograph it! In the next eight months this fabulous couple will be guest blogging about their journey to the big day. Here are some photographs I took for their website. -Lacey


Ted and Shay: Na Zdorovje!

Ah, the Russians. They really know how to drink/eat/make bad techno-dance music.

It was a spooky Halloween (Shay’s birthday). I decided to take her to Moscow on the Hill.

On the way I totally saw my favorite costume that year: a nine year old boy dressed as Flava-Flav. BOOM!

Not only does Moscow on the Hill have THE best stroganoff in town,

but they also have like, Nine Million kinds of Vodka from around the world (obviously right up Shay’s alley).

While enjoying a free shot of in-house distilled cherry vodka, I contemplated my master plan.

After cramming down some kind of amazing meat, cream and mushroom dish, not to mention a few more cocktails, I decided it was about time.

Shay will remember just as well as I will that I was acting weird. I didn’t drop to one knee, 1: because I think some traditions are kind of hokey. I didn’t want it to look like an act from a crappy play and 2: because I had just forced about two pounds of Russian food into my gut. I probably would have split my pants or ripped one….or both.

I wanted it to seem genuine. I reached across the table and took her hands. Then I babbled. Some people would prepare for this kind of thing. Not me, I wing that shit. I know I meant everything I said and that’s what really matters anyway. Obviously she said yes or I wouldn’t be writing this post.

The waiter was kind enough to bring us yet another round of free drinks (a combo of champagne and their cherry vodka). A small, fat Russian man with an accordion approached our table and said what I took to be: “I play for you now.”

It was pretty awesome, even if he could barely play the thing. Though there was an incredibly drunk middle-aged hippie lady who was throwing twenties at him like he was the greatest thing since The Rolling Stones.

So, among the sour cream, Russian mobsters, and enough vodka to pay a Soviet Union teacher for 15 years, I sealed the deal. It could not have been better……


Photo credits: Moscow on the HillPictures of Cupcakes blog, We Got Served blog

Ted and Shay: Let the shoe porn begin! (total SFW, BTW)

I'm on the hunt for shoes for the wedding. I'm saving money by making my own dress so it's only natural to reward myself for taking on such a huge project by splurging on a pair of kicks for the shin-dig, right?

Apparently, designer shoes are no longer attainable, even at my inflated price range. I've yet to find a pair under $600, much less the $300 max I set for myself. I'm going to have to wait for the spring sales, scout my sale-stores and just be patient (not a strong suit of mine).  One good thing, my feet are almost drag-queen sized so usually there are plenty of leftovers in the clearance bins/sites.

As much as I'd love to own a fabulous pair of Christian Louboutin shoes, I might cross them off the list. It seems like every tacky, over the top wedding I see photos of on blogs, has a princess-bride wearing red-soled shoes.  They also never seem to go below the $700 mark even when on super clearance.  This is me being practical.

For the time being, here's a slide show of what I'm having wet dreams about:

Thanks for playing!



Ted and Shay: My Turn!

I'm by no means a traditional kind of dude.

I would say that this picture does more explaining than words ever will. I never thought that the grocery store I work at would be the setting to meet the woman I would not only fall in love with but decide to share my life with, as well.

I always noticed Shay when she came in. With no name to go by I always referred to her as the hot chick with the pin up tattoo. I had no idea she noticed me as well. I just know I always stared at her when she was in the store (because I'm creepy, apparently). Her eyes were maybe what I noticed first....maybe. Shortly after I received a friend request via myspace from her.

Flash forward to summer 2007: I had just finished performing live on a local radio show with my band. The DJ and I decided to round up some other friends and hit up Grumpy's for some much needed beers and Karaoke. While trying to find a song to B.S. my way through I looked up and saw the hot chick with the pin-up tattoo walk through the door.

I'm awkward, clumsy and not very social. Especially when it comes to talking to the opposite sex. So it took quite a few (a crapload, really) of shots/beer/antifreeze to get up the guts to even stumble my way through a conversation with Shay. We spent the rest of the evening sitting on the patio of Grumpy's talking over each other about music and planning a future date.

Over the next few months we spent every day we could together and pretended to take it slow. It was inevitable. We knew it was more serious than a passing fling. I think I first noticed how strong my actual feelings were when I realized that she was not only willing but seemed to enjoy coming to the flophouse apartment I shared with my heterosexual life partner, Colin:

Seriously, it was a section 8, beige carpet, broken main door, hell hole of an apartment. Our kitchen looked like Afghanistan on a bad day but Shay had no problem coming over and trying to keep up with my immense alcohol tolerance.

I know I'm a lucky guy traditional or not.