Here's our dear Giovanna from Swoon, recently wed and with advice to share. I'm so curious about the other side, aren't you?

I’m not one for dispensing advice. I don’t have a problem taking advice from others. I just kind of hate telling people what to do.

So when Mouse asked me to do a guest post, I was totally flattered, because, obviously, she’s awesome, but I was also a little worried about coming across as preachy.

Let’s be honest - weddings do that to people. I sort of get it. As soon as you become engaged, you enter this bizarre world where everything, like it or not, revolves around The Wedding. The only people who seem to understand this temporary time-suck are the ones also trapped on, let’s call it...Crazy Engaged People Planet. But to make things even more complicated, there are thousands of societies on said planet with vastly differing ideologies and you have to figure out where you fit in.

On one end of the spectrum are the Wed-bots, who tell you things HAVE to be this way and you HAVE to spend this much, and on the other, are those Do-It-Yourself goddesses who scoff at the Wed-bots and tell you that you can do it all by hand.

While I love the DIY girls, both camps can be a bit overwhelming.

So I guess if I can offer any advice at all, here are the three tenets I tried to stick to:

*Be yourself. Don't compare yourself to others, or at least, try very hard not to do that. It’s perfectly OK to want to look pretty and have a stylish wedding, despite your budget, but don't do anything that doesn't feel right to you. And remember that your wedding is not a show. Repeat that as much as necessary.

*Understand that things will go wrong. My photographer shot a wedding once where the couple’s beloved Samoyed ran off during the ceremony and got hit by a car. A friend of a friend’s venue burned down the day of the wedding. If this doesn’t happen to you, be thankful. You can manage all the little things.

I got my period the morning of my wedding. I was pale and doubled over in pain. I said, “It figures” and popped some Advil. There was no sense in freaking out. My makeup/hair lady showed up super late. I didn’t yell at her or cry about it. Two of my cousins who were not in the bridal party whipped out their eyeliners and blow-dryers and got to work. The caterers put all of the vegetarian options inside during cocktail hour without telling anyone, so the dozens of vegetarians went without food until dinner. (We got some money back for that one.) I can think of at least three more mishaps, but I can still look you dead in the eye and tell you my wedding was kickass.

*Make sure to drink (unless you have an alcohol problem), eat and dance in abundance. That’s the good thing about being surrounded by eight bridesmaids. They won’t leave you on the dance floor trying to get down to Salt-N-Pepa (hell yeah, we played that) by yourself and you’ll always have a full glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

In the best of circumstances, you are brave enough to sift through the madness and carve out a wedding of your own - one that defines you and your partner and doesn’t make you feel icky. In the worst of circumstances, you fall in line with whatever your mother, grandmother, cousin and the big, bad, money-grubbing industry expect of you, and call it a day.

I tried to do the former, but it’s really all relative.

For much of my extended family, my wedding, which took place on an overcast afternoon on a grassy hilltop in the Hudson Valley, was totally different than anything in which they were accustomed. There was no church, no limousine, no ballroom with crystal chandeliers, no bouquet or garter toss, no tuxedos, no long, buffet table during cocktail hour overflowing with shellfish and pasta and meats and cheeses (did I mention I’m Italian?), and no grand introductions.

We quoted Nietzsche and Tom Robbins, we wrote our own vows - which included a reference to pancakes - and then we wandered into the tent and danced to Neil Young.

Let me tell you, in those circles, I’m like some kind of a radical, which, I realize, is hilarious.
But I fear the DIY fairies, many of whom have become my friends during the last year, will judge me when the photos come out. They’ll think I was too traditional with my 150-person guest list and my huge bridal party, all of whom are wearing the same color (gasp!) JCrew dresses.
I didn’t have a million chickens* to spend and I didn’t want a typical, cookie-cutter wedding, but I also suck at crafts, I like real flowers, and I wanted to make dress shopping as easy as possible for my busy bridesmaids. I wanted a DJ because I’m lazy and I’d rather spend the next few months paying off my credit card than monitoring the Ipod on my wedding day, as odd as that sounds. Also, I splurged on a pretty dress and sexy heels and I don’t want to feel guilty about it.
There were some things I did even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t picture myself wearing a veil, but my Nonna had a huge problem with that, and you know what? She’d been waiting for this day for a hell of a lot longer than I had, and when I told her it wouldn’t be in a church, she gave me a disapproving look, but managed to bite her lip and say nothing. If you knew this opinionated, yet well-meaning chatterbox, you would have been so proud at that moment. So I wore the stupid veil for our 15-minute ceremony and tore it out of my hair as soon as it was over.
I didn’t want to over-think every aspect of my wedding, because it can get a little egotistical, for lack of a better word.

I didn’t need all eyes on me during the first dance and the cake-cutting. We made sure guests joined us on the dance floor (after about a minute of Harvest Moon, at our DJ’s insistence) and that the jams kept going while I threw some butter cream goodness in my new husband’s face.
He ran around trying to find a container for my friend’s breast milk and set up a pillow and blanket on the grass outside for his friend with a back problem. He didn’t say, “I’m the groom. I shouldn’t be doing these things.” He wanted to help.

That groom does a good job of keeping me grounded. He’s not one of those, “You should have everything you want on your wedding day, baby” types. He’s more like, “Um, there are people that are starving and we’re worrying about chairs. Let’s get a grip.”

In the end, all we wanted was a fun party that felt like “us,” but we didn’t feel the need to shove “us” down all the guests throats. If they danced and caught up on each other’s lives and laughed over a few glasses of wine, that, for us, was the ultimate way to honor our union.

Your wedding will go by so quickly. On that morning, just take a deep breath and try to soak in how incredibly lucky you are that all these people - whether it’s 25 or 250 - showed up to celebrate the fact that you have chosen to commit yourself to someone else - for life. That’s a big deal. And mostly, remember that all this madness will soon be over, and the two of you can lounge on the couch eating takeout and watching Futurama and laughing at how adorable your cat is when he’s curled up on the chair with his paws covering his face. That’s marital bliss.

*I figure I'm on Mouse's blog, so I can use Mouse's lingo.