I have REGISTRY on my mind. Fanciful dreams of falling onto lush beds doused in Pratesi and Frette. Swirls of patterns on fine China from Vera, Versace, Calvin, and other people who only need to go by one name. My palms sensitive to the cool touch of sterling silver and eyes glistening from the stainless steel and crystal galore. Christofle, Baccarat, Tuttle, Crate and Barrel, Kitchen Aid, Le Creuset, Calphalon, Shun, Williams-Sonoma, the list goes on and on like the scrolls of Santa's "wish list".
It doesn't help that I get distracted from Christmas shopping by popping into stores to get more info on products. "What's the difference between folded steel edges [on a knife]?" "What's better, ceramic or bone china and why?" "Teflon coated or cast iron? Pros and cons?"
I wake up feeling very exhilarated by my nocturnal shopping spree, yet very guilty. Registry is NOT the reason for getting married. I should embody the mentality that these "items", these "things" are just practical, every-day use household items. Not things to be coveted or lusted after in my sleep. Seriously - I dreamt of finding a bargain set of KNIVES last night that would be a great wedding gift for a couple I know. Yet I was so tempted to keep them for myself. Warped. My brain is warped. Who dreams of such things? Only a serious shopaholic bride-to-be such as myself. I don't deny it. I must be slightly crazy. But at least I can call it temporary insanity, and hope it is cured after the wedding. :)
All photos from bloomingdales.com