Place Your Bets Ladies, I've Got A story No One Can Match!
Five bucks says what I'm about to describe has never happened to any one else. That fate never twisted itself like a Circque du Soleil acrobat in order to find you in the most unassuming place, quite like this.
Don't let the low dollar value of my bet question my confidence - I am absolutely sure that I am the only woman on Earth who got way more than she bargained for when she went to pick out her wedding flowers - I'm just not a gambling woman.
Like most other details, when it came to choosing a florist I relied on my bank of beached brides to lead me in the right, economical, and reliable direction. This time around, I got my Q from Steph Clarke. Married three years already, this particular Clarke pulled off a perfect Gringlish (Greek & English) wedding herself so when she spoke, I listened.
To be honest, I filed Steph's reco to call some lady named Vera in my wedding folder and decided to check out some local florists. After all, I, the hip city PR gal, should at the very least throw some love to one of the many florists who helped me plan numerous amounts of events throughout the years. Our first quote was just under $15 K. Thank you very much - we were out!
I'm sorry, but when did the price of flower arrangements go from a million to a gazillion? Wedding mark-up should be outlawed. I learned about retail mark up very early on in my career, working the racks at Tristan America in highschool (don't laugh folks, there I met renowned stylist Peter Papapetrou). But selling shirts for 200% of the cost is different than taking a bride's posterior virginity away before the wedding night!
I've had friends throw weddings with an abundance of flowers (I guarantee they spent upwards of 40k on their fleurs) and others, like Les who bought a bunch of roses and threw them into a clear vase full of water all by herself, total cost including bouquets = 700 bucks. Point is: I had an equally great time at both their weddings. I can't say the flowers had anything to do with the good memories, so quickly, I opened my inbox and started dialing Hi Vera, I'd like to make an appointment.
Vera of Tender Moments Flowers is a gift form heaven. You must travel to her home in Markham (inconvenient for those who don't drive), but worth the commute. There are no live plants to browse when you get there, but in her warm kitchen, you can take your time to sift through hundreds of pictures of floral masterpieces. It's there, in her cozy kitchen, whilst sipping coffee (her husband will surely make for you) and sifting through wedding photos, did fate reach it's hand to lay upon my cheek, a big one-two-smack!
There in photo album #4 circa 2005, was my first boyfriend. My highshcool sweetheart, my first real love. The guy who taught me how to drive standard in his Mustang 5.0. The guy who stole me away from his best friend. The guy that made me the envy of every gina in Scarborough, Markham, Unionville tri-area -- K-man.
Innocently, in front of my fiancé, I screamed, Oh my god, this is my ex-boyfriend. Do you know him? Did you do his wedding? That she knew him and his family was true. What she also knew was that the wedding he was supposed to have last September never happened. My heart sank and my mind went instantly from peonies to past lives.
Of all my ex-boyfriends, K is the really the only one I wish well upon. (Those who say they wish happiness upon their ex suffer from a strain of North American political correctness). I really do because we were buddies. Because we did crazy stupid things together that one can only do at seventeen. Like, the way we financed our seemingly extravagant lifestyle by running a fake I.D. business out of his car (there goes my political career). The way we cruised for hours with the T-bars down on only $2 of gas. And the way hosted many double-date backseat Shangri-la's for my friends, some who are reading this.
Those were the days. But the days were numbered as we inevitably were two very different people. I was a total bookworm, a true lover of academia and someone completely uncomfortable with the idea of these four things: driving fast, illegal business operations, and fancy things purchased with funds solicited from illegal operations and finally, people who don't see their full academic potential.
K was one of those guys. Really smart, but too cool for school. Today, I'm happy to announce he's a very successful engineer. But he took the long road to get there and I decided, at 17, that my brain just couldn't wait. So we broke up, in the most dramatic way only teenagers could. He lingered in my life for several years after. Eventually, about a decade later, we became friends.
Point is, when K got engaged almost 3 years ago, fate had twisted itself once again. I called him, out of the blue after not speaking to each other for months, to see how he was doing. He told me he was sitting in his car contemplating whether to call me and let me know that he was about to propose to his girlfriend the next day I say that's Freaky!
I was, as I said, happy for him. But sad too because K represented for me the era of my youth and with him getting married, my youth was certain to come to an end. As long as he was out there having fun, than I could be out there having fun too. But when he announced his engagement he sent me a clear message time to get serious and get your life together. So I listened. A year later, when I met G, a man who drives with perfect caution when I'm in the car and executes his life and business affairs with complete integrity, I decided to take him seriously.
K and I hadn't spoken again after that summery day. I figured he was about to be a groom and finally building that life he so deserved. But when I found out, in this most unusual way, about his failed engagement I went from truly glad to truly sad for him and wondered why life would throw me this curveball in this most bizarre way. So I called him, I had to.
He answered. During that conversation I started to understand why fate interrupted my life. As K man told me about his trials and tribulations with his now former fiancée, I recognized problems that echoed my own relationship, issues mainly stemming from cultural differences and teachings from our parent's approach to life and to us. The biggest being the difference between self and selflessness.
I couldn't help at wonder, "Is this how we'll end up?"
If you try to find meaning in things that happen to others you may end up finding someone else's destiny, not your own. We pick and choose what we take from experiences, and I chose to take from this one that K, the tape measure of a great past, had no influence over my future. After hearing his entire story, I agreed that his decision for him was the right one. I also decided that K was not G and she was not me. There ending did not have to be ours.
I am now only left with only one dilemma - a new mission to find K-man a woman.
If anyone is interested, I am contemplating a Bachelorette Roundup. Send me a message on my community page on WOMAN.ca!
(And in case anyone but me really cares about my flowers - I went with lots of green leaves, unusual shapes and some throw back to the 80's. All for a really decent price.)
By Sousie Tsotskos
 Sousie Tsotskos, A Greek Divas Bridal Brigade | |
| About the author: | |
Toronto public relations expert Sousie Tsotskos will walk down the aisle on June 6th, 2009. After years of showcasing Toronto's finest to media from around the world for Tourism Toronto, she uses industry secrets to plan her own wedding, taking us on an intoxicating and zany tour. From unusual dress-fittings, unwelcomed run-ins, hen parties and a minor identity crisis - find out how this Toronto mover-and-shaker learned to plan her BIG, LEAN, STYLISH GREEK WEDDING on a dime. This is one of the most highly addictive columns on WOMAN.ca. | |
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We spent about $600 total on our florals - luckily the venue was ornate enough on its own that we didn't need many flowers. I also purchased mums from a local veggie stand and had my crafty MOL design a silk arrangement around the gazebo. It ended up looking very rustic elegance - my look of course - and we were pleased.
Now I have a story for you - my MOL took my dress home after the wedding (as asked) and proudly announced to me some weeks later that she had 'tried it on'. She's half my size, and I would have rather not known at all...