It Really Is That Black And White: An Open Letter To All People Who Need To Change Shit Up.

I have had so many friends confide in me about how shitty their abusive partners make them feel on a regular basis so I figured that since I was spouting the same advice every single time, I may as well write a blog post about it. Much like the old adage, “he’s just not that into you”, what I have to say is very blunt and aims to rebut all the bullshit excuses you give yourself to justify sticking with the scumbag that treats you like his emotional or physical punching bag. For the sake of minimising pronouns, I’m going to write like I am talking to a female in a hetero relationship but this advice knows no gender, and is equally applicable whether you are a woman, dude, agendered, transgendered, bigendered, omnigendered, pangendered or otherkin (apologies if I have missed anybody out, gender description is not my specialty).

So. If you are with a person who treats you like dirt, calls you names, physically hurts you or makes you feel worthless, chances are that you and he have argued over this and he has apologised and lured you back in, time and time again. Firstly, and most importantly, HE DOES NOT LOVE YOU AND HE IS NOT ACTUALLY SORRY THAT HE HURT YOU. If you are genuinely sorry for something, you apologise sincerely and then you NEVER DO THAT THING AGAIN – because you can actually acknowledge why what you did was fucked up. This guy is probably the world’s best apologiser, and he sucks you back in every time. Why? Because he is genuinely concerned that he will lose you – but not because he loves you. He is freaking out because treating you like shit is one way that he can feel superior and take out his own shitty issues, and he is scared of not having that nice, safe, convenient, easily controllable outlet.

It’s SO important to grasp this fully: HE DOES NOT LOVE YOU. If there is any glimmer of love in there, it’s not a healthy, caring love – so again, you should get the hell away from that. If somebody actually loves you and cares about you they will make the effort to be kind to you and not pound you into the dirt repeatedly.
There are no exceptions to this.
Anything else is not love, it is insecurity and baggage and deep personal issues disguised as love. Actual love feels good. Love is not crying half the time and having the same conversation with your friends over and over and over for the billionth time because he did it again.

The reason that you stick around is because you have low self esteem. And believe me, HE KNOWS THIS. He NEEDS this to be the case. Because if you had a higher sense of self esteem, you would have been gone long ago. What you have to feel (and concentrate on getting professional help for if need be) is that YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THAT. EVERYBODY DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT. And if you stick around, guess what – he will NEVER magically change. For change to occur, there needs to be a catalyst – and you subtly reinforcing and validating his behaviour every time you go back there, is NEVER going to make him change. I know it sucks being single if you are one of those people that crave emotional tenderness and shit. I know personally how much it sucks having low self esteem. But the only way you will ever be able to build self-esteem is by NOT BEING WITH SOMEONE WHO KEEPS YOU DOWNTRODDEN. If you truly think that being made to feel like a piece of shit is a better option than being single, then you need to get counselling immediately. Because that’s the most heartbreaking shit I have ever heard.
On a side note, why are people so scared of not being in a relationship? Ask yourself this question and think about it very critically. There are other ways you can probably get your various needs met that don’t involve you being abused.
Just know this; if you stay with this dude, you will never feel good about yourself and you will never lead a happy life. It’s as black and white as that – there’s no point trying to dress it up.

If he is a repeat offender, you are fooling yourself if you think that you can help him change or that he will change out of love for you. HE WON’T. And if he truly loves you (which he doesn’t), he should be able to be apart from you for a very long time to fix his myriad of fucked-up issues, and then demonstrate that change by treating you with nothing but the utmost respect and care. But again, you’d be stupid to expect that to happen – and life is far too short to take a gamble with such ridiculously long odds.
Life is so short, dude. How fucked off will Future You be with Past You if you have to look back on your life and acknowledge how much of it you wasted being with someone that treated you so badly? What if it were your friend in this situation? Would you think that it was all G?

Look; I know it’s not as simple as “just leave him”. I’m not telling you that it is. I’m just trying to get you to look at this with a shred of critical thinking, because that could be the spark you need to set up some therapy, or do something else which will set off a chain reaction of events that will finally get you to wake up and fuck this guy off for good.

I’m too bummed about this subject to write a well-flowing piece so I will just sum it up in a few bulletpoints – forgive me for not sugarcoating anything. I care about my friends too much to be gentle when what they really need is a huge shake.


Love, Chelle xoxoxoxooxox




Chelleshockk’s Guide To Buying A Sex Toy

Disclaimer: This post is for adults and also you should consider yourself warned that it is about sex toys. Don’t read on if you can’t handle the fact that sex toys are normal things to not be ashamed about!!

It almost seems weird that I haven’t written about this until now, but I think that people should definitely know how to go about buying themselves a decent sex toy in this frigid grey world. And who better to listen to than me, who sells sex toys for a living? (Probably plenty of people, but do they also have blogs?)
So let us discuss the ins and outs (heh) of getting yourself something to get yourself off with! For the sake of continuity, I will just use vibrators as the main focus of this post.

Firstly, try to have a rough idea of what you are looking for. It’s no use shopping for something when you don’t really have any idea what that “something” actually is. I don’t mean that you should know the exact make and model of the vibrator that you want, but to make life easier for both yourself and the sex store staff, it’s a great idea to know whether you are in the market for a vibrator, a butt plug or a gimp mask. Just narrow it down enough so that you’re not umm-ing and aah-ing around the shop for six hours before deciding you just want the Cum Bucket mask, because this is a giant waste of time for all involved.

It looks like Forrest Gump's friend Bubba wearing a Darth Vader mask.

It looks like Forrest Gump’s friend Bubba wearing a Darth Vader mask.

Once you have an idea of what you are after, you will be able to go into a store and check out the equivalent products. If a staff member approaches you to offer help, don’t be afraid to tell them what you are looking for. It’s not Bali and we are not desperate to sell you crappy shit that you don’t want, we just want to make sure that you get as close to what you want as quickly and painlessly as possible, true story. I hate having people in the shop for ages browsing around cluelessly because it means that if they refuse my assistance, I have to pretend to be busy and on standby for the whole time they are in the store, when I could be saving them (and me) a whole heap of time. I think that most people these days immediately brush off staff members as a knee-jerk reaction because there is this underlying stereotype that all retail staff are just out to push the most expensive shit on you and suck you in buying a million things you don’t want or need. When someone comes into the shop I always offer a friendly greeting from across the store which has often been met with a frantic “NO I’M JUST LOOKING.” (Settle the fuck down, I only said “hi”!!) For the record, this is incredibly rude so don’t scream shit like that unless you are specifically asked a question.

So once you have gotten over your fear of being sold everything in the store that you don’t need and can’t afford, let the staff member know what you are looking for. They will show you where these items are in the store, and (if they are a good employee) describe some of the different styles to you. The more information you give them, the easier it will be to narrow down the search. Tell them what function you want the toy to be able to do, and don’t get worried that they will judge you or jack off thinking about you using the toy. TRUST ME ON THIS, the minute you leave the store I have already forgotten you and your sexual preferences, unless you are a regular (in which case, should you come back a month later it will probably jog my memory). But if you are a once-a-year dildo shopper, please understand that we do not give a shit that you are buying a thing to stick in your vag. If you’re embarrassed about your modest bullet purchase, then you would probably faint at my collection – so trust me, we have heard it all before and to us, sex toys are just products with features (they may as well be mobile phones the way we discuss them!).

For some people, mobile phones ARE sex toys.

For some people, mobile phones ARE sex toys.

The most important thing you can do is actually listen to the staff member when they are talking about the products – we know most of what there is to know about sex toys and in coming to our store, you are going to hear a decent amount of wisdom. We are not telling you that certain toys are better just because they are more expensive, we are telling you this because we want you to understand the difference between a quality toy and a piece of shit so that you can make an informed decision. We are doing this out of respect and care for you because we don’t want you to buy a crappy novelty rubber dildo that gives you a yeast infection and lasts two months – because then you may decide that you hate sex toys and you will never come back. We want to make you happy so that you will enjoy what you bought, and hopefully remember us the next time you want to buy something smutty. Like hookers, when it comes to sex toys, you get what you pay for – so don’t go sex toy shopping with a budget of $20 just because you got a crappy plastic vibrator once at Sexpo for $15.

"You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter."

“You’ll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter.”

Think about it – you are buying something to put in and around your moneymaker, so if you don’t actually care about the safety of your nether regions, then you should just shove a condom on a vegetable and save us staff the trouble of explaining why a novelty $15 dildo is not gonna be a good idea. Also, don’t bring along a loud-mouthed bogan friend who thinks they know everything – 99% of the time, they don’t. If I had 10c for every time that I had to shoot down the incorrect advice of your shitty mate who thinks that she is an expert just because she purchased a bottle of lube at a sex toy party at someone’s house once, I’d be able to get me a cask of wine and some lounge mix to go with it.

Having said all the above, it’s totally normal to have a budget in mind if you are the average person who doesn’t have unlimited money to burn all the time. Just don’t be an angry dick about it – let the staff member know so they can tell you if you’re wasting your time trying to buy Veuve Clicquot on a Passion Pop budget. Please don’t be one of those tedious people that get indignant and nasty just because things are more expensive than they were twenty years ago, or because this isn’t Bali and we don’t do “haggling”. I get it dude, I also used to only pay a tuppence to go to the movies and get an ice-cream at half time, but this is 2014, so let it go already.  Retail staff do not dictate the economy, nor do they get to choose the prices of the toys – so chill out, because trying to get them to cut you a deal on a $40 toy is just going to embarrass everybody and make you look like an ass-hat. Laybys are still a thing these days so don’t be afraid to ask to layby it if you can’t afford it upfront.

When you buy a toy, you need to always get an antibacterial cleaner to clean it with – either in the form of a spray, or individual wipes. Sex store staff don’t offer cleaner to try and get more money out of you, they offer it because keeping your toy clean is extremely important. Many people think that using just soap and water, or sanitisers such as Dettol are okay. THEY ARE NOT OKAY!! Don’t ever use anything that contains alcohol or fragrances to clean a sex toy, this can give you a raging irritation. Sex toy cleaners should be antibacterial, anti-viral and anti-fungal – don’t buy yourself a nice toy and then flag the cleaner to save money, that’s like buying a Rolls-Royce and letting the rain wash it for you.

For those of you who are too nervous to discuss sex toys in person with a staff member and are buying online, or are just knowledge-hungry, here are some good things to know about sex toys.

1. Materials
Silicone is the best material, because it is super durable, hypo-allergenic and non-porous, which means that over time, nothing is getting into the material. Glass and stainless steel are non-porous and durable, which make them great choices also. Avoid rubber, jelly (a mixture of rubber and PVC) and TPG, which all contain phthalates.
Phthalates are plasticisers which are used to soften plastics, and because they are not chemically bound to the plastics they’re added to, they’re continuously released into the air, or in this case, your chapel o’ love. They are health risks and are phased out of many products in the US and Europe, due to health concerns.
If you are not buying silicone, try to at least go for something that is phthalate-free, like TPR (thermoplastic rubber) or elastomer (eg Cyberskin) – look for “phthalate-free” written on the box.

2. Rechargeable vs. Battery-Powered
Rechargeable sex toys are hands-down the better option in my opinion, because they are stronger, quieter, and you never have to buy batteries. A rechargeable toy is also going to last a lot longer than a battery-powered toy, which is why so many of them offer 1-10 year warranties. Battery powered toys tend to be noisier (due to the battery case buzzing), weaker, and are more prone to dying earlier. When using a battery-powered sex toy it is important to never use lithium or rechargeable batteries, which can kill the motor – always use basic alkaline batteries and never leave them inside the toy. Another thing to keep in mind is that the vast majority of vibrators are not fully waterproof. Staff will be able to tell you which vibrators are fully submersible, and these will most likely all be in the high quality rechargeable category. When a battery-powered vibrator has a “waterproof” logo on the box, this pretty much just means splash-proof, so getting water into the battery compartment or motor will probably still kill it after awhile.

3. Lubricants
For some reason, many people love to loudly and proudly inform me that they don’t need to use lubricant when they are getting a sex toy. Congrats on having a vat of olive oil between your legs lady, but in offering you lube I wasn’t implying that you are the Sahara down there. Sex toys are not your sugar daddy’s warm throbbing member, they are synthetic materials – therefore using lube is just going to make it a bunch more pleasant, whether it is for internal use or external use. The most important thing to keep in mind with lubricant is that you can’t use certain lubes with certain materials. Silicone lubricant will ruin silicone toys (with Lelo, this will actually void your massive warranty – it’s obvious when silicone lube has been used) and is also not recommended for condoms or Cyberskin/Fanta Flesh style materials. My advice is to only use a water-based lubricant when it comes to sex toys and condoms, and aim to get the quality concentrated stuff – avoid the cheap gluggy shit. The upfront cost is a little more, but you go through far far less of the good stuff than the cheap stuff, so you will end up spending a lot less over time if you buy the decent stuff from the get-go.

4. Shape and Function
Different vibrators have different functions, and are all shaped accordingly. Very small bullet-shaped vibrators are intended for external use only (take note men – if you want to put something in your butt, don’t buy a bullet. Tempting though it may seem to buy the smallest thing you can find for your tender virgin butthole, your butt will suck it right up there and you will need to go to the emergency room for retrieval). If you want a G-spot vibrator you will need to find one with a decent curve. There are rod-straight vibrators out there, but they aren’t very popular because they won’t do much except stab the everloving piss out of your cervix. For both external and internal stimulation, you need to look for what is commonly known as a rabbit vibrator (named so because the original design had rabbit ears on the clit stimulator). Rabbits have an internal shaft and a smaller clit stimulator, and are probably the most popular design nowadays, thanks in part to their appearance in Sex And The City. For men wanting prostate stimulation, you need something with a good curve to it (somewhat similar to the shape of a G-spot vibrator) so avoid anything straight, or short round plugs. With all anal toys it is imperative that they have a base or handle, for cautionary reasons described earlier.

I wasn't lying.

I wasn’t lying.

Now that you have been armed with this most excellent of advice, I bid you all happy and safe masturbating!!!

Love, Chelle xoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo


Woah it’s been far too long since I posted. Forgive me, I have had a holiday and haven’t posted since 24 September which is almost 2 months ago. Also, in that time, “Chelleshockk” turned 3 years old!! Anyway, we didn’t come here to talk about my laziness, nor my blog’s birthday. We are here to discuss the wonderful story behind John Daker, who is very popular nowadays with his music. If you have me hidden from your Facebook newsfeed, then a. Fuck you! and b. You probably don’t even know who John Daker is, which saddens me greatly.

Well dear friends, I have gone undercover to bring to you the scoop behind what makes John Daker tick.
If you would be so kind as to watch this video before we begin (someone has been good enough to include subtitles) then it will help you to understand the man behind the mumbling.

John Daker shot to fame on Public Access Television singing his favourite two songs, but who is the real John Daker? What did he do before his big break? What happened to John after he shot to fame? What was the REAL nature of the relationship between John and his singing teacher? Allow me to bring to you the truth behind the singing sensation that is John Daker.

John Daker was born during World War II in Peoria, Illinois sometime in the year 1944, however the exact date is unknown because all of the Illinois women were busy working in the factories in lieu of the men, who were off fighting in the war. Due to this factory war effort, birth records and other administrative tasks were not prioritised during this era. John’s parents were 19 year old Mary Ellen Nixon and 21 year old Richard John Daker, who was shipped out to England in preparation for D-Day with absolutely no inkling that Mary Ellen was pregnant.

The happy couple before Richard John shipped out to war.

The happy couple before Richard John shipped out to war.

Richard was sadly killed in the drop over Normandy on D-Day, and Mary Ellen was left alone and pregnant, with a really shitty job packing shot into shotgun shells in an Illinois munitions factory. One day she decided that she had had enough of all this munitions bullshit and she never returned to the factory again, choosing instead to work at the post office so that she could give her newborn son John (named after his father) as much of a happy childhood as she could.

John attended a Catholic primary school and was instantly liked by the nuns because he had a beautiful singing voice and a gentle disposition, and they also felt sorry for the young boy without a father. John became best friends with Davy Simmons, who had also lost his father in Normandy, and soon Mary Ellen became good friends with Alice Simmons, Davy’s mother.

Young John and Davy were the best of friends.

Young John and Davy were the best of friends.

Life was harmonious for a few years until a teenage John became resentful of his father for going to war and not being home for his family, and he took up with the weird country kids a few miles down the road. They introduced him to their illegal home-brewed moonshine, and Mary Ellen became concerned when John didn’t come home one night. She later found him writhing around under a tree, complaining that he couldn’t see anything, and immediately rushed him to the hospital. The doctors confirmed that John had suffered ethanol poisoning and that his sight should return within a couple of days, but that he would never recover fully and would always have learning difficulties and an impaired memory.

After this fright, John became very spiritual and joined the local First United Methodist Church, where he attended sermons weekly, and rejoiced in being a part of the church community. It was here where John developed two passions – the first for singing, and the second for a kindly young redheaded woman named Reva Cooper Unsicker.

John and Reva were both prominent members of the church choir and it wasn’t long before rumours were flying about the pair.

Not to mention Reva's sordid past as a pinup model!

Not to mention Reva’s sordid past as a pinup model!

They had a secret affair for several years until Reva decided that she would devote her life to teaching music, and the affair had to come to an end. Shortly after this, Mary Ellen passed away from angina, leaving John all alone in the world. John was heartbroken and spent many years wondering how best to try to get Reva to look at him lovingly once more. He became her singing student and practised fervently in the hopes that his soulful voice would remind her of the love they had once shared. For fifty five years Reva taught in that town, with her prized pupil being John Daker. One day Reva was granted the opportunity to showcase some of her pupils on a local public-access TV channel, and she delighted in selecting some of the promising young students. John Daker was not among them, for Reva knew of his crippling shyness and stage fright and she knew that he would not consent to sing in front of an audience. On the day of the performance however, one of the performers Reverend Bill Jones was unable to make it at the last minute and as John looked at Reva’s worried face, he knew that the only way to win her back would be to step up and save the day.

Reva's hero.

Reva’s hero.

John confronted his stage-fright demons that day as he took to the stage to sing for his Reva. Sadly, the ethanol poisoning that he had suffered as a teenager reared it’s ugly head and John suffered short-term memory loss during the performance, causing him to forget many of the lyrics to his two favourite songs (Christ The Lord Is Risen Today and That’s Amore). This flustered Reva and she was unable to keep her piano timing steady, resulting in John feeling rushed and pressured by her. Once he got off the stage, he told Reva that he never wanted to see her again, for he felt that she had played out of time to mess him up on purpose and make him look bad. Reva was crestfallen, for she now knew that John and her were supposed to be together after seeing his bravery in performing, but that was the last she saw of John, and sadly Reva never loved another.

After the performance, John went straight home to pack his things, knowing that Peoria was no longer home. He decided to head to Normandy to gain closure and forgiveness for his father so that he could move on with his life.

It was emotionally tough but that's amore.

It was emotionally tough but that’s amore.

After Normandy, John decided to continue travelling and he visited many countries all over the world. When he became short of money, he busked to earn a living, and he managed to keep himself fed and sheltered with his voice.

When John finally returned home to Illinois, he discovered that the YouTube video of his old performance had become very popular, and he grew fearful of stalkers and obsessive fans. He knew that there was only one thing left to do; take up martial arts for self-defence.

John is on the far right, looking formidable.

John is on the far right, looking formidable.

John is still studying karate in Illinois, and he enjoys a private life in peace. He tracked down his old friend Davy Simmons and they play chess together every week, taking it in turns to prepare a packed lunch to enjoy together while they laugh over the old times under the regime of the nuns at school. John has asked me to advise readers that it is John’s wish that any flowers or donations of money from fans be sent instead to Reva Cooper Unsicker, for it was through her kindness and love that John learned music, forgiveness and peace. He still thinks about Reva from time to time, and hopes that there is a possibility for him and Reva to find amore once more.

Amore, Chelle.

He Was Out Of Town, And His Two Friends Were SO FINE.

My friend Heidi and I decided to start a blog about one hit wonders, which never really took off. However I thought it would be sad for my post regarding Los Del Rio’s “Macarena” to simply slide between the sheets of oblivion. So here it is:

It would be outrageous for me to never speak of Los Del Rio’s 1995 hit, Macarena. Although I hated it, the Macarena is definitely the All Time Super One Hit Wonder. When it came out, everyone asked, “who the fuck are Los Del Rio and what are they even doing?” before quickly becoming a Macarena-dancing idiot themselves. In case you were on heroin in 1995-6, or were born after that time, let me refresh your memory: 

Who are Los Del Rio? Well, they are 2 pretty old guys that enjoy watching young firm women of many ethnicities shaking their asses. They seem to only sing the chorus and they also enjoy doing some awkward moves at the mic. That’s probably all there is to know about them, really. Now let us discuss the lyrics of this song;

When I dance they call me Macarena 
And the boys they say that I’m buena 
They all want me, they can’t have me 
So they all come and dance beside me 
Move with me, jam with me 
And if you’re good I’ll take you home with me 

A la tuhuelpa legria Macarena 
Que tuhuelce paralla legria cosa buena 
A la tuhuelpa legria macarena

Eeeh, Macarena (A-Hai)  

Now don’t you worry ´bout my boy friend 
The boy who’s name is Nicorino 
I don’t want him, couldn’t stand him 
He was no good so I – hahaaaa 
Now, come on, what was I supposed to do ? 
He was outta town and his two friends were soooo fine 
Come and find me, my name is Macarena 
Always at the party, 
‘Cause the chicos think I’m buena 
Come join me, dance with me 
And all your fellows chant hello with me 

If you look at the lyrics carefully, the song is about a superslut who thinks she is pretty hot shit. She also describes the boys in her life as being spineless limerant men who, upon learning that they cannot have her (even though they all want her), settle for simply dancing next to her. She makes promises that she may take one home if he is good, however we know this is a huge lie because her boyfriend Nicorino is out of town that night and she is going to be Eiffel-towered by his two “fine” friends. Then she bangs on once more about how  ”buena” she is and how all the boys want her.

The chorus can be translated as something like:

Give your body happiness Macarena 

Your body is for giving itself joy and good things 

Give your body happiness Macarena 

Hey Macarena

I’m going to go ahead and assume that they are talking about having sex, and more specifically, about being gang-banged by your boyfriends friends when he is out of town. Word to the wise men; be careful when you go on holiday, because your two mates Bazza and Robbo could very well be paying your girlfriend a friendly neighbourhood visit of an evening. Nicorino’s mates weren’t above it, and neither are Bazza and Robbo (especially if your girlfriend is rather buena). So basically the whole song is about a bunch of people who like to use their looks to lead others on, people who happily hook up with their friends’ girlfriends together, and people who cheat on their boyfriend because they consider him to be “no good”.

However, they managed to mask all of this debauchery with a catchy dance!  Soon enough, people all over the world joined in and caught “Macarena fever”. From the elderly,

“there goes my trick knee!”

to bowling alley punks,

This is extremely poor bowling alley etiquette, by the by.

to awkward pubescent girls,

The girl in the middle is having far too much fun.

to hilarious men.

“Watch closely, ladies. This is how we do it in San Fran!”

Even Borimir.

No, one simply does not.

Off you go then!

– Chelle

That’s Why They Call Me Slim Shady, I’m Back, I’m Back. Let’s Talk Weddings!

Howdy after so long! I’ve had a bit of a break from writing as we have just moved and have waited for our new DSL connection to be established, which was happily completed today. I currently have a wee list of blog post ideas but none of them are really grabbing me tonight so I thought I’d sit down with a glass of wine and just freestyle, off the top of my dome like. Here’s my new work station, by the way;

Not messy yet; give it time - we just moved in!

Not messy yet; give it time – we just moved in!

Lately Chris and I have been talking about weddings (don’t get too excited baby boomers, we aren’t getting married! Not that I could because I technically still have a husband so that would be a bit Amish of me) and the cost thereof. Having had a wedding before, I feel like I am somewhat qualified to comment on the clusterfuckery that is wedding culture. Oh – I was a keen bride-to-be, I pored over dozens and dozens of bridal magazines, convinced that my wedding would be a stylish day to remember (it totally wasn’t, because I was a 20 year old bogan with no style, and still am). The more magazines I devoured, the more important it became to have the perfect invitations, decorations, locations and bomboniere (the random little keepsakes/candies that you normally find at your dinner place at weddings). My fiance at the time was easygoing and didn’t really mind too much about the details, so I was the “Judge Judy and executioner” for all decisions.

The ridiculous thing is, my parents offered to pay for us to go over to the Cook Islands and get married there with family present, and we stupidly said no, because we wanted all of our friends to be there and I was quite hung up on the idea of having a big classy wedding. So on we went with our plans and on we went with our debt, because what else are credit cards and personal loans for, amirite? I can’t remember if I was a bridezilla or not but I probably was because I’m pretty sure I made my bridesmaids spend all day making white chair covers tied back with black ribbon because it would have been ludicrous not to have CHAIR COVERS BECAUSE OMG I DIDN’T WANT EVERYONE TO THINK WE WERE TACKY!!

Because those hats were completely classy.

Because that tiara and those hats were completely classy. Did I mention I paid like $250 for that stupid little tiara? FML. Also, the makeup artist fucked up my makeup and I looked stupid and stoned.

It was also imperative to have the following things; matching 1964 Chevy Impalas, expensive matching suits for the groomsmen, new dresses made for myself and the bridesmaids, bouquets of white oriental lilies (nowhere near in season of course), a fancy a la carte dinner at the French restaurant in the city (complete with a chef that had cooked for the queen), chair covers and tablecloths, bomboniere, fancy invitations, a DJ, decorations, a large bridal archway, an open bar, the presidential suite at the Southern Cross Hotel, hair and makeup done for myself and my 4 bridesmaids, an expensive, sought-after photographer, the list goes on and on and on, I can’t even be bothered recounting the rest. The bottom line? It cost a fucking shitload and was only one day, and even with all that money spent it was STILL not a classy affair, because we were not classy people. If I were to get married again, I would have such a cool wedding and it would be really cheap in comparison, but so much more tasteful.

The bridesmaids wore black and the groomsmen wore white.

The bridesmaids wore black and the groomsmen wore white.

The point of this post is to enlighten unwed ladies about the dangers of falling prey to the bridal industry. Bridal magazines and bridal expos showcase weddings that cost people $20,000 and upwards and in the photos the whole thing looks so whimsical and perfect, but totally not worth the months of planning and the financial sacrifice. By all means if you are rich as fuck, then drop all the coin you want on your big day because you probably won’t really miss the money anyway. If you are of modest means, then remember that the $40K that you want to drop on your wedding could save you about $100K in future interest if you pay it onto your mortgage, or for about half the price you could have the most wonderful memories and adventures travelling the world, and getting married in a small “Chapel O Love” somewhere.

Unfortunately I didn’t get this memo and was so fixated on having the big wedding with all the guests, and I can’t understand why I did that. In fact, I can’t understand why I did half the shit I did when I was in my early 20s, so maybe it’s just part of growing up. I have a funny feeling that the wedding debacle is something that people only fully understand after the rush of that big day is gone and they are left with nothing but debt, or a big hole in their savings. Then they realise that their wedding day wasn’t actually all that special/worth all that stress, and they should have spent the money elsewhere. Another way to look at it is this; 33% of all marriages end in divorce*, which means that you are essentially gambling a lot of money on poor odds that it will even be worth it in the long run. The house always wins, remember that.

Unless you're these guys, obvs.

Unless you’re these guys, obvs.

Obviously I’m not trying to tell anyone what to do with their life, some people wish nothing more to have that big white wedding and happily factor it into the budget, I’m just hoping to be a voice out there that says its ok not to do the big traditional wedding if your bank balance can’t handle it. Even worse is putting yourselves into debt to do it, because that’s where your first arguments with your new husband/wife are going to lie – money and debt. As someone who was staunchly in favour of having a big expensive wedding at all costs, and having seen the error of my ways, I hope that my advice can help anyone who may feel pressured into doing the big bridal expo wedding with all the trimmings. You can most definitely have a decent wedding on a budget as well! If anyone wants to get married traditionally but doesn’t want to break the bank, email me because I totally know how to do a stylish wedding for under $5000, I shit you not.

Bottom line is; love is love no matter how you tie the knot.

Love (but perhaps not until death do us part?), Chelle xoxoxooxoxoxoxo

* According to this guy: