I’m Leaving My Doctor…

I had a recent check-up. You know the annual one where you feet don’t go in stirrups.

Last year I had one with the same guy. He seemed a little quirky, but not so much that I regarded him as anything but a trippy little doctor dude. I’d had the same doctor in Nashville for 6 years, so perhaps I overlooked his odd behavior because of my own nerves. We did blood work last time, and I fasted. We discussed my knees at length. My general health. He addressed my concerns as I brought them up to him. I remember feeling a bit awkward in the fact that he asked very few questions and I had to do what I felt like was “over-sharing.”

Today? Today was freakin’ banana-cakes, people. We’re talking totally crazy-pants. Granted, I got there 5 minutes late myself (I had no idea traffic would be that bad at 3:30 in the afternoon!), but then had to wait 40 minutes to see the doctor. I had just finished a rather challenging level of Angry Birds when he finally walked in.

We discussed Angry Birds for what I felt was a little too long. We talked about my knees and my back, like we did last time. He spoke of some exercises I could do to strengthen them. The same exercises he mentioned last time. He even printed them out, like last time.

I brought up checking my kidneys with some blood work since I take an anti-inflammatory on the regular. But then he dismissed what has been an annual test for me since 1998. So I pushed back for it. It made me very uncomfortable because he was treating the discussion like it was a joke. In fact, everything had a punch line. Of sorts.

I have some new freckles on my legs that concerned me.  My dad has had a ton of skin cancer thingies cut off of him, so I’m hyper-aware of any new speckles on my already freckly, sun-ruined skin. He looked at them and told me it was nothing he could cut off, though cutting them off would make him some money. From the insurance companies.

So now, you can color me creeped out.

This was supposed to be an annual physical. I remained dressed.The doctor touched both of my knees and had me bend them so he could feel the creaky joints underneath while we discussed my meniscus. He didn’t look in my eyes, my ears or my mouth. He didn’t thump on my chest, smoosh my innards around or listen to my heart beat. He didn’t ask one single question.

He refilled my anti-inflammatory, had them take some blood (aren’t I supposed to fast?) and sent me on my way.

My insurance covers the visit, but you can bet yourself some money on what I’m going to do next:

1. Find a new doctor.
2. Pay for another annual exam out of pocket if need be.
3. Attempt to interview a doctor as best I can before I step foot into their office. Why should I or my insurance company pay a shitty doctor for shitty service? Who is to say I can’t interview them first? Sure, I can find stuff on the interwebs, I’m sure. But there’s nothing like making a quick phone call, right? Why should I wait for 40 minutes, have my insurance pay for that appointment (what, about $150 or so?) if I can make a quick phone call, get a vibe and possibly avoid the crap I had to put up with today? Oh, and I had to leave work early too. Race across town for the appointment and then sit in nasty crosstown traffic afterwards? No, no, no, no, no. No on all accounts.
4. That was a long #3.

So I’m leaving my doctor. For failure to communicate. I wonder if I should send him a “Dear John” or if a silent disappearance and request for records will suffice?

{Rant} Abortion, Birth Control, Romania and Rush Limbaugh

I am SO sick of this whole birth control/abortion debate.

Have we forgotten about the whole Roe vs. Wade thingy circa 1973? I was THREE years old. THREE. Many of you who read this blog weren’t even born.

Roe vs. Wade legalized abortion via the SUPREME COURT. Done deal, right? Wrong.

The argument in the politics du jour is that the government shouldn’t pay for abortions/birth control. The answer? Pull all government dollars that go towards the likes of Planned Parenthood.  Familiar with Planned Parenthood? It’s the place where lots of young women and women without health care can go to get pelvic exams, birth control and breast exams.

In 1986, I was 16 years old. Sex was still taboo and to have it was to label yourself a slut, particularly if you weren’t in a confirmed, long term relationship. My BFF at the time was a year older than I was. She was in a long term relationship. She’d been with her boyfriend for two years. Things were getting serious  and she was worried. There was a girl in our high school who had gotten pregnant who, rumor had it, had gotten so because  the condom had failed. It broke.

Suddenly, in the extremely bourgeois suburb of picture-perfect West Springfield, something was amiss. Pregnancy? Condom failure? WHA?

My friend was terrified of pregnancy. Wait, no. She was terrified of her abusive father. A father who I personally saw beat the crap out of my friend and her mother and who when I intervened, threatened me too. So when she begged me to come with her to Planned Parenthood, I drove her there with glee. I wanted to make sure my BFF was protected from stray boyfriend sperm as well as her asshat father.  

I stood with her and held her hand while she got her first pelvic exam. At Planned Parenthood.

So when I hear shit like this from douchebags like Rush Limbaugh, it sets my blood to FUCKING BOIL:

So, Miss Fluke and the rest of you feminazis. Here's the deal. If we're going to pay for your contraceptives and thus pay for you to have sex, we want something for it. We want you to post the videos online so we can all watch.

He’s referring to Sandra Fluke, the Georgetown University law student who was denied the right to speak at a controversial Republican hearing on contraception.

So let’s see…. an educated woman who stands up for her rights as well as the rights of other women is labeled a slut and a Feminazi for requesting to legally, and through proper legislative channels, discuss those rights?

Are you kidding me?

One of the reasons we’re all in an uproar about everything political is the way we’ve taken to discussing things. We call people names like slut, feminazi and douchebag. As soon as the name calling starts, all true discussion ends. It’s tough to maintain composure when a fat-ass, right-wing, pseudo-celebrity calls an intelligent woman a slut. It’s a stunt. It’s a radio ‘personality’ looking for publicity.

The problem is that there are people out there who freakin’ worship Rush Limbaugh. They think he’s an educated man (he dropped out of the well-known and oh-so-elite Southeast Missouri State University). People actually listen to what he says. I guess as a right-winger he’s cornered the market on family values: married four times, no kids and clearly watches internet porn. Anyone else smell his hypocritical manure?

But people listen to him and believe him. The Limbaughs of the world use verbiage like this as political fire bombs during election time. They pass insane laws, fast track legislation and generally get everyone in an uproar all for votes. VOTES. It’s certainly not for the safety and well being of our population.

So let’s talk about that safety and well-being. There has been some interesting research out there in conjunction with unwanted births and crime statistics. I’m fascinated by this so thought I’d share. Most of this is paraphrased from the research done for the book Freakanomics, so please keep this in mind.

We need to start with a history lesson.

In 1966, Nicolae Ceausescu became the Communist dictator of Romania. He outlawed abortions in order to build  a nation worthy of the New Socialist Man – it was an exercise in grandiosity and ego. Anyone familiar with Romania’s history during this regime knows that the dictator and his family lived in amazing wealth while their people suffered in extreme poverty. The population grew.

Ceausescu’s ban on abortion was designed to achieve one of his major aims: to rapidly strengthen Romania by boosting its population. Until 1966, Romania had had one of the most liberal abortion policies in the world. Abortion was in fact the main form of birth control, with four abortions for every live birth. Now, virtually overnight, abortion was forbidden. The only exemptions were mothers who already had four children or women with significant standing in the Communist Party. At the same time, all contraception and sex education were banned. Government agents sardonically known as the Menstrual Police regularly rounded up women in their workplaces to administer pregnancy tests. If a woman repeatedly failed to conceive, she as forced to pay a steep ‘celibacy tax’.

Ceausescu’s incentives produced the desired effect. Within one year of the abortion ban, the Romanian birth rate had doubled. These babies were born into a country where, unless you belonged to the Ceausescu clan or the Communist elite, life was miserable.

Fast forward to December 16, 1989. Know what happened? Nicolae Ceausescu lost his grip on Romania. Thousands of people took to the streets in protest. Wanna guess the age range of those protestors? Let’s see, 1989-1966 = 23….ages of the protestors ranged from 13 to mid-20’s. Ceausescu’s own ‘Socialist Army’ retaliated and put a bullet in his brain on Christmas Day 1989.

Now let’s slide on over to the US of A. On that very same day in 1989, crime was just about at its peak in the United States. When the crime rate began falling in the early 1990’s, it did so with such speed and suddenness that it surprised everyone. Most look at the demographics and say, “Well, the majority of the population in the US was older. How many geriatrics do you see knocking over the local 7-11?” According to studies though, demographic change is too slow and subtle a process – you don’t graduate from teenage hoodlum to senior citizen in just a few years – to even begin to explain the suddenness of the crime decline  in our country.

So what does this have to do with abortion? Here’s another history lesson:

In 1828, New York became the first state to restrict abortion; by 1900 it had been made illegal throughout the country. In the late 1960’s, several states began to allow abortion under extreme circumstances: rape, incest or danger to the mother. By 1970 five states had made abortion entirely legal and broadly available: New York, California, Washington, Alaska and Hawaii. On January 22, 1973, legalized abortion was suddenly extended to the entire country with the U.S. Supreme court’s ruling in Roe v. Wade.

The majority opinion, written by justice Harry Blackmun, spoke specifically to the would-be mother’s predicament:

The detriment that the State would impose upon the pregnant woman by denying this choice altogether is apparent … maternity, or additional offspring, may force upon the woman a distressful life and future psychological harm may be imminent. Mental and physical health may be taxed by child care. There is also the distress, for all concerned, associated with the unwanted child, and there is the problem of bringing a child into a family already unable, psychologically and otherwise, to care for it.

The Supreme Court gave voice to what the mothers in Romania – and elsewhere – had long known: when a woman does not want to have a child, she usually has a good reason.

In the first year after Roe v. Wade, some 750,000 women had abortions in the United States (representing one abortion for every 4 live births, the opposite of Romania). Time for another math equation! Take the early 90’s, let’s just say 1994-1973 (legalized abortion) = 21. See where this is going?  A generation has passed since women can make their own decision to abort. In sharp contrast to Romania, you have a sudden and extreme drop in the crime rate across the country. And wanna hear something equally freaky? Those first states to adopt abortion (New York, California, Washington, Alaska and Hawaii)? Guess which states crime rates dropped faster and first?

DING! DING! DING! YOU WIN!

Socially speaking. Historically speaking. Logically speaking. Fueled by data and research alone, keeping the government and Rush Limbaugh out of women's uteruses (uteri?) is clearly the better choice. Are there continued arguments as to the whether the government should fund them? Yes. Is there a better way than to simply pull all funding from Planned Parenthood? Yes. It’s called compromise. I wish politicians could understand that word.

I also wish that the GOP would go back to stealing our money rather than getting on their family value/morality high horse during election season. It’s old. And false. And filled with such hypocrisy it’s sick.

If you think because you’re getting married and planning to have a child that this doesn’t affect you? You’re wrong. This is seeping into birth control and if you’re on the pill, that may no longer be covered by your health insurance. Can you afford that? With insurance it’s anywhere from $5-$15 a month. Without it can be $20-$50. What if you lost your job? Your insurance? What then? What about the women RIGHT NOW who can’t afford it now, who get their prescriptions from Planned Parenthood, like my friend did in 1986? To call a woman  slut, to enforce celibacy amongst women only (somehow folks forget that it takes TWO to tango), to take away a woman’s right to protect herself from unwanted pregnancy? It’s just stupid. And in extreme cases (hello Romania!) dangerous to our society.

I’m exhausted over the issue. Aren’t you?

Update on Friday, March 2, 2012 at 2:52PM by Louise

Fabulous response from President Obama.

http://huff.to/y9dtzD

Soft-Core Porn, The WIC and The Youth Brigade

Hey! Guess what I’m going to bitch about today? So many things, so little time, right?

I’m going to talk about how sex sells.

No, wait. That’s not right. It’s not sex, exactly. Maybe it’s youth that sells? Well, crap. Now I’m not even sure what it is I’m going to bitch about. Well, I’ll just start bitching and we’ll see where this goes….

It all started a few days ago when the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated showed up in our mailbox. As preemptive strike, I’m going to share my personal stance on something that not all women will agree with me on: I have nothing against pornography. Playboy, late night movies on Cinemax – whatever floats your boat is fine with me. I’m not personally a fan of the hard-core stuff, but if you’re into it, then what you do in your private time is YOUR business.¹ Of course, there are so many negatives associated with that world;  there are very strong arguments against just about every aspect of pornography, whether soft or hard core. We can argue objectification. We can argue how it empowers women. I think both sides would be correct in some fashion.

I believe that people are free to do what they want to do.  Again, we could drum up some arguments the go against that basic human right.

What’s been bothering me lately is how YOUNG the women are in so much of our advertising these days. It smacks of soft-core porn. I mean, it’s one thing to be young, look mature and try to pass yourself off as an adult. I can relate. I was the height I am now (5’10”) at 13. People thought I was older than I was and I could get away with it if I tried. However, it’s another thing to look like a child in a grown-up situation. To me, that’s crossing some lines. It’s creepy. It grosses me out. I think it encourages young women to by-pass their youth at lightening speed and jump into mature situations they clearly aren’t prepared for mentally. 

This bothers me. A lot. I mean, what’s wrong with being a kid for as long as humanly possible? Why is everyone in such a damn hurry to grow up? I do remember being a kid and wanting to be grown up. I wanted to wear lipstick and shave my legs in the 5th grade. I wasn’t allowed a razor for a several more years and my root beer flavored Lip Smackers was a close as I got to lipstick.

I’m so happy for that. I’m happy that I had a childhood. I‘m happy I climbed tress and ran through the woods and that I came home in the afternoon, covered in mosquitos bites, the occasional tick, scraped knees and dirt under my fingernails. I’m glad that the kids on my block were my friends and that I wasn’t forced into some “play group.” I’m happy for my innocence, my naïveté. I’m happy I wasn’t bombarded with advertising filled with half-naked women bouncing around with giant tits.

There was a Twitter conversation I started  a few weeks  ago regarding the Vera Wang diamond commercial. I saw it and freaked out and tweeted something and a bunch of bloggers jumped in on the creep-factor. Here’s what I’m talking about it case you haven’t seen it.

Do you see what I see? I see some scruffy boy who has snuck his Dad’s vintage convertible out the garage and has driven to his family’s mansion by the ocean and taken his 16 year old girlfriend along in hopes of getting laid. Her parents think she’s gone camping with her friend Susie and Susie’s parents. His parents are attending a conference on plastic surgery in Palm Springs and are making a long weekend of it, entrusting their teenage son to take care of things as a responsible young adult.

Oops, wait no? That’s not it? Oh, holy sweet mother of God, those are supposed to adults? Committing to marriage? What? The? Fuck?

OK, so it’s pretty. The girl is pretty. The boy is prettier. I get the whole fantasy marketing scheme in that regard. However, what Zales (and perhaps Vera?) is forgetting is the fact that the average age of folks getting engaged isn’t 12. In 2010, the average age for dudes getting married is 28.2, for the ladies it’s 26.1. (source) Does this advertisement speak to those men and women? I just can’t see how it does unless Generation Y is predisposed to this kind of stuff, which I’m starting to think it is.

Bummer.

For the record, the model in the commercial is Rosie Tupper and she’s 20 years old.

So, my panties untwist themselves regarding the commercial. I move on, but the ick-factor is still there whenever I see it.

Then all hell breaks loose this week. Why? The Candyman’s issue of Sport’s Illustrated shows up. Yup, it’s the swimsuit edition. Now, like I said before, I’m OK with the soft core porn, which is basically what this issue has become. What freaked me out was the cover model.

The first thing that I noticed? Her crotch. Uh. Um. Where do I start? Let’s see….first and foremost: HELLO AIRBRUSH! Their ain’t no Brazilian wax job that’s gonna look that good. Ever. It just ain’t happening. I wonder if they had to airbrush the vajayjay cleft out?²

Second, I looked at her face and nearly choked. The girl still has her baby-face-fat. She’s still chock full of her natural collagen, her face isn’t as defined as it is yet to be. I was nauseated at how young she looked. But I thought to myself, “Maybe she just looks young, Louise. Don’t be a youth-jealous old fuddy-duddy.” So I went on-line and scoped out this cover model, Kate Upton.

She’s the youngest model to grace the covers of SI and she’s NINETEEN! She’s not even legal drinking age. Whoa.

When I was tooling around on-line and found out who she was and went to her webpage, this is what I found:

Whoa. Nineteen. Did you roll around in sexy lingerie at 19? When I was her age, I think the sexiest thing I may have owned was a pair of black (*GASP*) string bikini Jockey for Her undies. This kind of sexuality just wasn’t the norm.

And now it is. And it bothers me. It’s not the sexuality in and of itself, it’s the models who are being chosen and paid to exhibit it. Must they be and/or look so young? I get that the nubile body of a young woman gets the motors running for most men. I get it. I really do. But how young is too young? How are we defining sexuality by encouraging blatant youth in advertising, both in the wedding industry and otherwise?

In this country, we define “adult” at 18. At 18 you can drive and marry  and vote and go to war, but you can’t drink.³ How many 18 year olds do you know who are mature enough to handle what’s happening in that video above? Does that 19 year old girl (yes, GIRL) understand what’s really going on? Does she realize that in a month or two a good portion of these magazines will be in the trash, crusty and nasty from male “private time”; that most issues will simply be a bathroom pass time?  Gross? Totally. But you know it’s true.

None of this is new. I’m sure some woman felt the same way about the super French-cut bikinis from the 80’s. I haven’t even mentioned Victoria’s Secret in all this. So I see this youth-based sexuality crossing over into the wedding world, where it just doesn’t seem to belong. Does anyone else see this? Does anyone else feel the same way?  Am I being too stuffy? Am I just getting old? Do I not “get” the generation under me? Can I no longer relate?

It makes me shudder to imagine that I am any of these things. I’ve never considered myself a prude or a conservative by any stretch of the imagination. All of it just makes me sad. And confused. How does it make you feel?

¹ FREAK! No, I’m just kidding.

²I had a graphic artist friend in California who worked for Playboy and his JOB was airbrushing Playboy models. Day in and day out, he removed stretch marks, stray pubes, cellulite. Talk about jaded. That dude couldn’t look at a model without shuddering. He had to quit after 3 years or so. He said it was destroying his faith in humanity.

³Personally, I think if you can be killed for your country, you should be allowed to drink in it. However, I don’t think we should lower the drinking age, but raise the age of military service to 21.

{Friday Rant} Wedding Blogs and Politics Go Hand-in-Hand? Naturally.

For those of you who are Facebook friends with me on my personal account (all 3 of you) you’ll have seen this already. For the rest of you (the other 3), take a listen here.

This really resonates with me. And it’s not just because I can appreciate a good rant. I mean, it’s one thing to blog-rant, but this was live freakin’ TV. Most awesome.

The guy has a point. A good point.

Right before the last election my dad, historically a conservative both in politics and life, was doing some weird stuff. Writing congressman. Writing intellectuals  and noted academics at multiple institutions and universities. He even read the Qur’an. Yeah, the whole thing. He started to come to some personal political conclusions that were starting to sound, well….a little banancakes. He sent these political conclusions to newspapers. He was even published a few times. I’m totally convinced he’s on some government watch list.

We’d start talking about something: immigration, congress, the national debt and he’d go off on a soliloquy of sorts, almost like he’d rehearsed the conversation. I’d turn and look at my mother, eyebrow cocked and she’d shake her head, waive her hand, snap the newspaper she was reading in disgust and completely ignore him. I asked her once, “Has Dad gone off the deep end?” And she replied, “Completely, but it keeps him busy.”

I guess that’s what nearly 50 years of marriage comes to: a little complacency and a lot of acceptance.

So that was about 4 or 5 years ago when all this was happening. He’s still writing letters and reading all sorts of things, but he’s less intense about it all now, partly because he’s completely torn up his back yard to lay a new brick patio. He’s involved in other projects.  I think at the time he was caught up in the excitement of figuring some stuff out. The really weird thing now? What he said was going to happen is happening. The crash of the economy, the rioting in the streets over financial institutions both at home and abroad. It’s a little creepy.

One of the things he believes is that we should have is a new amendment to the Constitution that limits terms of congress. Here’s why:

• Term limits would lessen the probability of corruption by power.  Representatives who spend too many years in office, living in DC and away from their constituents, surrounded by lobbyists, easily become part of a professional governing class, remote from the concerns of normal people. Term limits would recreate a class of citizen-legislators, who see politics as a brief chance to make their country better, rather than as a long-term comfortable career for themselves.
• Term limits would remove the advantages that incumbents have in a re-election campaign, regardless of the strength their opponents. These advantages stem from name recognition and from the greater access to funding that incumbent candidates have from businesses and lobbying groups.
• Elected representative judgment  and honesty can be damaged by the on-going and costly need to campaign. This forces them to do the popular thing rather than the right one, to act in the narrow interest of their constituents rather than in the national one, and to pander to big business or other lobby groups in order to score funding.
• Term limits would bring fresh faces, talents and experiences into the political process, including those of many people who might now have previously considered a political career. It would ensure that most law and policy makers would have “real world” experience outside of the political machine and bring more first-hand knowledge of business and industry into government.

There are down sides to this notion.

• Experience counts. Every new job has a learning curve. It could  take months or even years to get a handle on the job. Policy issues and legislative bills are complicated and the public is best served by some continuity of service.
• Term limits are an insult to the intelligence of voters, who in a democratic system are perfectly at liberty to get rid of an unsatisfactory politician.
• Corruption can happen here too. There’s no incentive for a representative to do their best for the voters, whom they will not need to face again. They may try to reap as many financial benefits as possible before their term ends. They may lay with big businesses in order to land a cushy job post-term.
• Amateur politicians are likely to be naïve and easily exploited by lobbyists.

I’m starting to think term limits might be the first, correct step to right a country gone horribly wrong. Since the Bush administration (heck, it goes back to Reagan really, as he raised the debt ceiling 17 TIMES!), we’ve made it easier and easier for banks and giant companies to rule the roost. I mean, for crissakes, they bullied not one but TWO Presidents into financial bailouts. Are you fucking kidding me? I love how Felonious Munk says it here (WORK PLACE WARNING: turn your volume WAY down):

The absolute corruption at the financial institution level is blinding apparent. It simply cannot be ignored. If you don’t believe it I’d call you simple. A nincompoop. Sadly disillusioned.

The race for the presidency has become yet another media exploit. The Republican party is desperate for a candidate. I can’t believe Michelle Bachman is still talking. Is Newt the best they’ve got right now? Are you kidding me? Besides his issues with women (he’s on his third wife, one of them was a prior mistress), he’s was a part of the House Banking Scandal in 1992 and wrote 22 bad checks on government money. In an act of incredible hypocrisy, Newt a “crusader” against taxes, obtained taxpayer subsidies for his personal and political goals by misusing tax-exempt groups. Using tax-exempt educational or charitable donations for partisan purposes is illegal, and several ethics complaints were filed against Gingrich. He agreed to pay a $300,000 fine for misleading the committee during the investigation, narrowly avoiding conviction. There were also the shady books deals in 1984 and again in 1995 involving millions of dollars and the use of taxpayer dollars for personal funding. Rupert Murdoch has Newt in his back pocket. This? THIS is the man running against Obama? And Romney? No way. I honestly don’t believe a Mormon will be elected in this country any time soon. I think the religion has too many associations with cult-like membership for liberals to fully accept. I'm not saying it IS a cult. I'm saying shit like Sister Wives and the zealots of the religion leave a bad taste in the mouths of other Christian religions. Conservatives want a different kind of Christian.  Besides, he’s too squeaky clean. It’s ALWAYS those who look the brightest and shiniest who end up being total deviants in some way, shape or form. I don’t buy it and would never vote for the guy.

The nightly news depresses me. I watch Brian Williams on NBC because he’s dreamy. Hearing the doom and gloom from a pretty talking head makes swallowing the horse pill of daily politics slightly more palatable.

Term limits. Let’s go back to term limits. What do we think about them? In my mind, it seems like one of the quickest and most succinct ways of turning this ship. And this is a BIG DAMN SHIP. We are going to have to lean hard on the rudder to turn it. It won’t be easy or fast, but we HAVE GOT TO START SOMETIME. How ‘bout NOW?

Dear Pan X.

I got a shit-ton of hits this week from Wedding Wire from a bride who decidedly did NOT like my post on Vera Wang’s White line offered at David’s Bridal.

Here’s the comment:

Soooooo just had a friend trash my dress because it isn't a "real" Vera Wang dress. She likes this blog http://www.thethirtysomethingbride.com/imported-20100102151706/2011/2/1/davids-bridal-vs-vera-wang.html Which is the thin [sic]I blame for this situation. I really do not like that blog, because the blogger is such a snob all the time while pretending to understand and sympathize, even support brides on a budget. I hate dress snobs. You can afford Vera Wang made of 100% silk? Good for you. Now leave me alone to enjoy my polyester dress in peace please. This is one of those girls who spends $400 on a Coach Wallet she really can't afford, because God forbid she pay bills if she has to use a cheap wallet.

Thought I'd reply here to a few accusations tossed my way....

First, if you don't like me or my blog, I am way OK with that. Lots of people don’t. If you don't think I'm supportive of brides and the choices they make, I'm OK with that too. The great thing about being human is that we get to make decisions about what we read and don't read, do and don't do. It’s good to be human, no?

As for being a dress snob - perhaps I am. I've attempted, over time, to explain the differences in the price of gowns so that brides who might not know the difference between the quality of a DB dress and designer dress don't become overwhelmed and/or feel inferior about about their dress choice. It appears that what I think I’m doing and how you feel about that are not one in the same. Please note that it is not my intention to be a dress snob. I will admit that I am a quality snob, but that’s not limited to dresses.

However, I do feel somewhat personally attacked. Some of the things you said in your comment lead me to believe you’re not a regular reader, so I want to clarify simply because  like a lot of people, I’m insecure and don’t like to be spoken about negatively.

For the record:

• I could not afford a Vera Wang dress. My original budget was $800 for my gown. I ended up with a Mikaella gown that cost me $1300 before alterations. The ONLY reason I could afford the dress was because my mom slipped me an extra $500 on the sly because she knew I was having a hard time finding a gown I loved in my price range.
• As I’ve mentioned many times before (though you may not be aware), I am a seamstress and designer by trade and training. The reason I talk about the differences in the gowns is to educate; to explain why one dress is more expensive than another. If you don’t care, that’s fine. For me, it pisses me off when I see cheap dresses being sold at any price just because of the label on it, hence my Vera Wang White post.
• Now, as for the bit about the Coach wallet and paying my bills? Um, screw you. Yeah, I said it. And everyone who might be supporting Pan X. and her comment and rant on dress snobs? THINK for just a minute about how a comment like that might make you FEEL. Screw the bits about the dress snobbery- that’s just superficial fluff in the big-life-picture. What if, for the sake of her comment, that I am reckless with my money? What if I have regrets a-plenty about the money I’ve spent? I certainly don’t want to see that and have it thrown in my face, deserved or not. Would you? HOWEVER, you Pan X., could not be more wrong about me and the state of my financial affairs, as if they were any of your business to begin with. I learned a long, hard lesson about finances when I was in my early 20’s and I paid for it, literally, for years. Since then, I have NEVER purchased a product (other than my house) that I could not pay for in cash. Ever. Whether that thing be a $400 Coach wallet (for the record, nope) or the 2 for $15 t-shirts at Old Navy (for the record, MANY times). I have a credit score that would make your head swim and I helped my husband increase his over 100 points with smart financial planning. We paid for our wedding ourselves without going a penny into debt, our assistance amounting to the $500 my mom gave me. I have been unemployed for a year and have JUST dipped into our “big” savings account to help us along. I can be unemployed for at least another 13-14 months before worry sets in. Why? Because I planned. Because I saved. Because I never lived beyond my means. Because I played it smart when everyone else I knew was throwing money around like it was confetti. Because I work hard for my money.  And you know what?  I’m PROUD of this fact. So do me favor, OK? Before you go talking about people and assuming certain things about their personal lives, dig a little deeper (or just ask). All that crap is somewhere on this blog, you just have to read.
• Lastly, instead of blaming me because I choose to put my thoughts, experience and knowledge out there regarding the differences in the DB Vera Wang and the real deal, I might consider your choice of friends. People who say that kind of shit to each other are generally insecure or unhappy about something. I honestly don’t think this is about you, this blog, your dress or Vera Wang. I think this is about the “friend” who said a mean thing that upset you. And for that I’m sorry. No one, and I mean no one should be made to feel bad about their choice of dress, or anything associated with their weddings, despite what this blog, your friend or any other website might tell you. Period.

I wrote all this here only because it wouldn’t fit in the comment section on Wedding Wire.