down the garden path My flower girl Sydney's got a helluva grin to her, but you'd never know from these pictures. In fact, what I like best about her in these shots is that she never mugs. She was very serious about having her picture taken, though, moving intuitively to where the light was better. Only 3 years old when we got married and so far beyond the norms of her age that it's almost scary. I love that Amy's looking down at Sydney during this picture. (After a bunch of formal pictures, you start to appreciate the anomalies. Trust me on this one.) Amy's a very maternal chick, something that comes naturally. Her 6-year-old son Michael couldn't be with us today, but I have very fond memories of him in a tuxedo during Amy's 1996 wedding. There's just something primitively appealing about little kids in formal wear. Lookit all them leaves. And they said we lived in a concrete jungle...   amy, aleta, jean and alex contemplate the anticonfluential narrative ...and yearn for crackers Stop paying attention to those leaves and admire us. We are beautiful, no? (I mean, except for that bitchy look on my face.) People in James' family asked me afterwards if the bridesmaids were my sisters. Alex & I used to get that all the time in highschool, but I'd forgotten all about it until the question was put to me. Huh. Truth is, I met both Alex & Amy in grade 9 homeroom, back when Amy wore a windbreaker every day, Alex had a penchant for Flinstones pants and I was still securely wrapped in a thick cocoon of geek girl. The day after I turned 16, I suddenly emerged from my chrysalis into the welcoming arms of a small-, tight-knit group that included Alex & Amy, who starred as the most off-beat semi-rock-ons in the history of the world. They introduced me to Anne Rice, Concrete Blonde and alcohol. I have yet to recover.   bad girls This is us doing what we do best - exposing our punk-ass rock-on skid roots. On the way to the site, I kept busy by flipping off aggressive drivers in SUV's. I was hoping that the sight of a white gloved bride giving the finger would break their brains. We posed for a similar bridesmaid picture when Amy got married in 1996, only then we were a whole lot closer to the rock-on source of adolescent power. We still had long hair, for instance. And there was some attempt at menacing sneers & Jenn (not one of my bridesmaids because I don't like her anymore) grabbed at her crotch. Yeah. Finishing school is too good for the likes of us. I have no idea how my maid of honour Jean manages to flip the bird and look sweet & demure at the same time. I suspect it's a special attribute of not emulating white trash in her teens.   kilts aweigh! While the wimmin folk were preening under the foliage, the boys were riding our picture coat-tails and making their own architecture shots. I like Nic's delicate "I can't walk through that mud!" pose - he looks good in a skirt. But I've always thought that, from the very first time that I put a dress on him.   team bride & team groom strategically agree to look good This is a very serious shot, the kind that appeals to those who think one shouldn't give the finger whilst wearing elbow length gloves. In case you're still dicey about the names, we'll do a full run down for those keeping score at home, starting from the left. Dave - best man and best friend of James since the days of Star Wars action figures, all the way through the years of gamer geekdom and into semi-cool adulthood. I say semi-cool, because they still discuss the relative merits of the 8 Dr. Who's. Sydney - is the non-mugging flower child, and through the course of her association with Aleta's backyard pool this summer she has learned to swim without floaters or waders (as she later informed the other maids on the way to the reception hall). Amy - super-mom meets super-babe; Aleta's friend from the merry olde days of grade 9. Scott - met Aleta in residence; is the best muscles money can buy (if you don't have very much money). Aleta and James are tying the knot later. Jean - James' youngest sister is so damn attractive that it's a crime. She's also smart, capable & fun to be with - it's just not fair. Alex - met Aleta in 9th grade and taught her much about living darkly and looking wise. Nic - is the much-picked on younger brother of Aleta who reads about social injustice by day and plays punk drums by night. Oh, we are a happy and attractive bunch, n'est-ce pas?   "let's emulate a fish-eye lens!" Well, we thought it was funny. Of course, we were hungry & thirsty & strapped into pretty clothes & some of us had started to drink already. But it is a genuine picture of the giggly atmosphere that pervaded the morning. You can always tell when a photographer is being bossy or if the party is tired of pretending to have fun. We just had fun all morning without thinking about it: flipping off drivers, playing soccer, abusing our permit privledges (at any moment we half-expected an old groundskeeper-type to run out of the buildings and chase us off, shouting, "hey you kids!!") It was a good time in a big white dress, that's all. Notice, also, the angelic beauty of Sydney's flower crown. My mother made it that morning and it turned out much better than can be reasonably expected. Ah, the joys of being a slave to details... as she gives me the fish eye... This is me assuring Sydney that all the craziness was over for the time being. I had no idea I looked so patronizing. (But pretty. That makeup job was worth it. Damn.)