Our wedding invitations finally arrived, and I’m smitten with them. My parents humoured my whims, and so Kevin and I chose dramatic three-layer invitations (a dark purple backing, a shimmery lavendar middle layer,and a cream top layer), with a ribbon, double envelopes, and shimmery lavendar envelope linings. They’re everything I was hoping for.
Aside from the ribbons, and heavy paper, and the colors, one of my favourite parts in the reply card — we centered the accepts/regrets on a single, symmetrical line. It’s been making me happy for every envelope I’ve addressed.
Assembling the envelopes was daunting, especially since my etiquette books devote about 30 pages to correctness in this area. Woah. Instructions read along the lines of “The reply envelope is placed face down on the reception card. The reply card is slipped face up beneath the flap of the reply envelope.” Challenging to my brain’s visualization. Or, further, “The invitation and its enclosures are placed into the inside envelope with the base of the invitation at the bottom of the envelope and the engraving facing the back of the envelope. The invitation is then placed into the inside envelope with the fold toward the bottom of the envelope. Once stuffed, the inside envelopes are inserted into the outside envelopes. The front of the inside envelope faces the back of the outside envelope.” My poor, feeble, verbally-challenged brain parses these as “the inside goes on the outside, facing forward, face down, and then turned”. Obviously, these aren’t quite marching orders.
So, you can imagine my deep relief when I found all of this in picture form. I just have to follow the directions for diagram three, and then we’re all good to go. A huge relief. Thank you, internet.
Assembling and addressing all of them has made for a series of deeply enjoyable evenings. The invitations are so beautiful, and the paper is rich, I bought a great pen, and so the whole thing is a pleasure. Even better, each time I get to a new name on the list, I keep thinking that I should enclose a little extra note, just so that they know how much I hope they can come. A “You *really* matter to me — I hope you can make it.” It’s just neat to realize how many people, and who, matter viscerally in my life, and our lives. Especially where so many of these people are on the east coast, and we’re stuck out on the west coast, it’s deeply satisfying to write their names on the page and hope that they’ll be able to make it.
And then, the next morning, I have a batch to mail…
Did I mention how gorgeous the paper is? 🙂
