When I went wedding dress shopping forty years ago, I went all by myself. My daughter was smarter. She phoned and asked me to go with her. Read more.
This wedding called for a festive evening dress with panache and color and sparkle. And skin. Lots of it. Arms. Legs. And, what the heck, décolletage. Read more.
There’s no such thing as a presentable evening bag that can hold what a woman – a real one – needs to put into her purse these days. Read more.
It’s an Indian wedding with all the trimmings — drums, gongs, garlands of flowers, priestly blessings and flocks of women wearing gorgeous saris. I’m a Westerner. What do I wear? Read more.
My trusty point and shoot goes with me everywhere these days. But for my son’s wedding I resolved to Be In The Moment and resist the temptation to digitize every last detail of my son’s big day. Read more.
In a little more than twenty-four hours our son Peter would be a married man. But first, he and Jon had to pick up their wedding duds. My outfit was already hanging in the closet. Read more.