In lieu of a ring bearer pillow...

Yes, I cut a hole into a vintage book. It wasn't the most kind I've ever been. But, to be fair, I tried to read the book first, and it was dry as dust. I kid you not. With a title like "Their Wedding Journey" I expected a sweet romance that ends with a wedding. 

Nope. It's a story about some boring Victorian couple who take their honeymoon way after their wedding. Also the bride is slightly older than most brides (which in those days probably meant she was like 22 or something). The honeymoon is pretty much to Niagara Falls. The book wastes time on pedantic descriptions of the travel conditions and awful, awful dialogue.

I say this to justify myself, but really, I don't feel that bad. If the book had been more interesting I would have kept it as is and displayed it on a table or something.

But the hole in the book didn't look like much until I added a small ring box and teal ribbon (not to mention the rings!). The ribbon was courtesy of my maid of honor, who had brought it to tie treat bags at the bachelorette party, because yes, she made party favors for my bachelorette party. She is so classy and southern and I love her to death. The ribbon looks green in the photos, but I took the photos at night, so that's probably why. Blame it on lightbulbs+no ambient light+my camera skills.

Why did I even bother, you ask? I mean, I could have handed Andy the rings in a regular little ring box, he could have kept them in a pocket, and not have a huge book to carry around. Well, the answer is ring-warming.

Alex, one of the groomsmen thought I said "ring-worming" when I first told him about it. Not quite the same. This is the point in the wedding ceremony planning where couples decide they need to add another layer of meaning and ritual, and basically make up their own. Some of these ideas catch on and are used in many weddings.

I've seen couples planting trees using the soil from their childhood homes (so cute). I've seen unity candles, where your mothers light a candle representing your family and you take those candles and light a larger candle representing your new family (I've also seen brides and grooms then proceed to blow out their family candles, which bugs me every time because I don't like the symbolism there). I've seen sand ceremonies where it looks a little like sand art you do at summer camp and then you display this random hurricane vase full of sand in your wedding colors on your mantel in your new home (not as cute, but practical for a beach wedding I suppose).

But I found one that I really thought would fit John and I. A ring warming is where you actually pass the rings through your guests. The idea is that they will hold the rings for a moment, think of a wish or prayer for the couple, and pass them on. By the time the rings come back, they are then stronger and more precious since they contain the love and support of your friends and family.

What I like about this ceremony is how it recognizes everybody: not simply your mom and dad or your immediate families. I know that my relationship with John is the result of a lot of conversations with friends (especially before we were together when they were all trying to convince me that John was madly in love with me and I should pursue it). They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I also think  it takes a community of family and friends supporting your marriage for it to truly succeed.

Thus, we had a ring warming. I could have placed the rings on a pillow (and I had ideas to cover one with vintage handkerchiefs or scraps of my grandmother's lace), but it seemed so strange to me to have a pillow when we didn't have any small children to act as the ring bearer. Andy with a frilly little pillow? Funny, but not quite right.

This was one of my favorite details from the wedding. Our officiant explained how I had made the wedding bands as a tribute to my grandmother, so the ring warming took on an extra significance as the guests examined my handiwork and gave us their blessings.

At first I wondered if this was going to be cheesy in practice, but I had so many people at the reception tell me it was a beautiful, meaningful idea and a wonderful way to include the guests in the ceremony. My aunt was in tears thinking of her mom making wedding bands and me carrying on the tradition. I was beaming as I watched the book travel through our families and friends and I really felt that it added something to the exchange of rings to feel all that love and support radiating out from our loved ones.

Making the Wedding Rings

You may remember way back when I posted about my plans to make our wedding bands (which is also one of my favorite posts I've ever written for this blog).

Well, it happened, with the help of my friend Emily (who is the reason I found our photographer, as I mentioned in another previous post). John had to leave for marching band camp that day and was unable to be there with us, so I made sure to take plenty of pictures. And now, I'm really glad I did, because I love being reminded of the process. And what a process it was; I almost didn't have a band for John at all because we couldn't figure out why the sterling was cracking apart. Then, on my ring, the solder didn't seem to want to take and we kept having to heat and reheat the ring under the torch (which was nerve-wracking because gold is softer and I was scared I would melt it and ruin it!).

All in all, it was a long day of work (over 6 hours), but I was so proud to be able to do this myself as a tribute to my grandmother, who made my parents' rings and whose tools and silver I used to make our rings. Emily was amazing, stepping in when I asked for help and really making sure I left with rings that I was completely in love with. 

Here's a small tour of the process:

All the raw materials laid out on a vintage jewelry box that I keep my
grandmother's silver tools in (files, jewelry saw, hammers, solder, etc).

The three large sterling pieces were for John's ring, the two small 14k
 white gold pieces for my ring(s), and the postage-stamp sized piece
of 18k white gold solder that I had to special-order for my rings.

The jewelry saw, all beeswaxed up and ready to go, and through
the blade, the measurements for our rings. Mine was about 2.2"
and John's only took 2.6"

Gotta love the singed bit all around the spot where I annealed John's ring.

Before I made any of the other rings, I made a practice ring with some
spare sterling silver. It ended up being a size 5, which fits right on
my pinky finger.

The practice ring without any sanding (hence the obvious seam).
I liked the matte look of it without any polishing.

After annealing, I stamped the three blanks for John's rings.

The first blank shattered like peanut brittle after annealing it. Emily was
stunned; she said she had never seen that happen before. The second
ring formed a small crack in a later step. After calling a few friends
 for advice (and trying to fill the cracks with solder, which was futile),
we let the third ring air-cool instead of quenching it.
It was the little ring that could.

So I practiced stamping on the broken ring. I knew I wanted to stamp it
with a quote from Walt Whitman's Song of the Open Road (which
we used in our ceremony), but I couldn't decide between three
quotes. The quote ended up choosing me, because a second ring
cracked after this point.

The ring that didn't break apart. Hooray!

Emily got a great shot of me soldering what would become John's ring.

You can see the seam so clearly in this shot. It was pretty much invisible
by the time I was done with it!

Holding up my engagement ring in the light right before I formed
the white gold to fit around it. It had such a nice sparkle I
decided to take a picture.

After bending my ring around my engagement ring, we had to keep
hammering it around the ring sizer to make sure it didn't completely
lose its shape.

You can see all the scratches and marks from the pliers and the hammer.
That's the fun part of working with gold; it's so soft it shows everything,
so I was advised to keep a fairly light touch with it.

It almost looks like a different metal when you hold it up against my
finished engagement ring, doesn't it? But don't worry; after
many many hours of filing and sanding and buffing,
it looked like a perfect match.

Of all the DIY projects for the wedding, this one was the most intimidating and the most satisfying. I can't believe I made our wedding bands with my nascent metal smithing skills. I am so proud of this accomplishment but also so glad I didn't give in and buy bands out of fear. What an incredible experience, and such a meaningful tribute to my family history.

Adorable Detail

A quick little detail, that made me smile. A couple designs an adorable wedding logo consisting of two raccoons, and has it screenprinted on the inside of the groom's and groomsmen's vests, and engraved into the groom's wedding ring:

Spotted on Green Wedding Shoes, photography by Jodi Miller Photography.

O. Em. Gee.

Whaaaaaaaat this is seriously awesome.

I love this. I'm all about cute shots of the wedding rings, but this one really beats all. Since we're planning on S'mores the night before our wedding, I feel like a similar shot might be cool.

Spotted on StyleMePretty, photography by Jennefer Wilson. Kudos!

Wedding Rings

I certainly know what I would want to buy as our wedding bands, if I weren't already planning on making them myself.

Erica Weiner Jewelry is amazing.

I have long had a love of Erica Weiner jewelry. I love her castings of old rings, and these two are no exception. The larger of the two has "Gift" inscribed in Old Slavic, which is a dead language but a linguistic precursor to both Slovak and Slovenian (which is cool because I am Slovenian and my fiance is Slovak). The smaller ring has "Remembrance" inscribed with open work.

Erica Weiner re-cast them in 14k yellow gold and sells them as a set. I love them, but sort of wish they were available in other metals (white gold and sterling silver, specifically). She has brass versions available that can be strung on chain as a necklace, but I would want to wear them as rings and the brass would definitely make my finger green.

However, I had decided long before I saw these rings that I was going to be making our wedding bands. The plan is to make John a simple sterling silver band (He said white gold still looked sort of yellow to him in comparison, which is true).

I am actually making two rings for myself, one to sit on either side of my engagement ring. My perfect ring looks like this:

Sigh. Love. Both those photos are from the original Etsy listing, by the way; the ring was made by the amazingly talented Kate Szabone, and the photos are hers as well.

Anyways, my plan is to make two simple 14k white gold bands, both in the same grooved pattern as my ring. The bands will wrap perfectly around the diamond so it looks like it was made to be a set. I read in my wedding research (yes, I am a nerd and researched how wedding traditions came about) that in Scandinavian countries women will sometimes wear three rings: one to represent the engagement, one to represent the marriage vows, and one to represent motherhood and your future family. I like the sentiment of that, plus I don't think I could deal with asymmetry on my finger. I need a ring on each side to balance things out!

The choice to make the rings wasn't one based solely on saving money, or by my status as a fiercely-DIY sort of bride (though both are valid reasons). The main reason I decided to make our wedding bands is to pay tribute to my maternal grandmother, who was a watercolor painter and silversmith. My grandmother made my parents' wedding rings, as well as several pieces for my aunts and mom over the years. I inherited all of her jewelry tools and supplies, including some of her original silver.

Rings made by my grandmother and I.

I think it's so amazing that I barely knew her growing up, and yet I ended up years later pursuing something she loved to do. I think I must get some artistic talent from her (and my mother), because I have always loved working with my hands to create things. Making our wedding bands will be such an exciting manifestation of that passion.

I hope someday I learn more about metalsmithing (particularly stone setting and lost-wax casting) and can set up a small workshop to practice the craft. It will be such a lovely way to feel connected to her and to my artistic roots.

On an unrelated note, I found an interesting source (possibly apocryphal, but cool nonetheless) that talked about why the ring finger represents your marriage.

Apparently, the thumb represents your parents, the index finger represents your siblings, the middle finger represents yourself, the ring finger represents your partner, and the pinky your children. Hold your hands so that your fingers are tip to tip, then lower the middle fingers down into the space between your hands. You can easily separate any pair of fingers (thumbs, indexes)-except for the ring finger. This represents that you will not live with your parents forever, nor your siblings. Your children will eventually grow up an move out. But your partner and you are joined for life (interdependency for the win?).

Now, before the med school kids get on my case about anatomy, I know from back in my piano-playing days that the ring fingers can't separate for a different reason: they are the weakest fingers because they only have one extensor tendon while all the other fingers have two. Boo-ya. Aren't you proud of my knowledge of the anatomy of the hand? I am*.

*My former violin teacher used to explain everything wrong with my technique using anatomy. She would discuss specific joints, tendons, and muscles used to create different bow strokes. I guess some of it stuck!