The funny thing about being the girl who owns the camera is that while you do take a lot of pictures but don’t wind up in a lot of them. That’s both good and bad - good because I’d like to be a much fitter person before I start throwing pictures of myself on holiday all over the internet (hello vanity!) and bad because, well sod it (Brit term, you like?), I am here in my version of paradise and would like a ton of pictures of me cavorting about in the countryside or beach or whatever else have you. Let’s wait and see which side of the argument wins for me on this trip, shall we? But truth be told I’m sure it will be vanity. Don’t judge - I’m sure you know exactly where I’m coming from and maybe have been there too! Current level of squishiness aside, I’ll have you know that I knocked everyone out with my choice of dress for the wedding we attended over the weekend, so I don’t feel too off my game. We all get squishy from time to time, right?

So…we landed at London Heathrow early Friday afternoon and I somehow managed enough discipline to bypass the duty free shops and head on to our final destination of the day. I won’t go into too much detail on our first stop other than to say it was a phenomenal time. We stayed at Combe House, which was also the hotel where the wedding was held. It is a centuries old house turned hotel in Devon and the staff was some of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to deal with. In fact, they were so good that they helped confirm the ridiculous notion that I need a personal assistant or butler of my own. Hopefully one day I can make that happen but I should probably start playing the lottery soon as that’s my current best chance at it. Ugh and sigh. Anyway, as I'm prone to do, I drank far too much champagne. There were also the. most. delicious. finger sandwiches that I could not stop eating. Here, enjoy some random pics that I couldn’t get onto Instagram because apparently wifi isn’t really a thing in old English manors:

Combe House was open only for guests of the wedding.

Gin and juice. I kid you not.Dress pic coming soon to Instagram and I'll probably update this post once it's up. I was a little too drunk on champagne to remember to document everything - naughty blogger! — Gin and juice. I kid you not.
Dress pic coming soon to Instagram and I'll probably update this post once it's up. I was a little too drunk on champagne to remember to document everything - naughty blogger!

I got a lot of compliments on my dress and there was apparently quite the discussion about my shoes. I finally got to break in my basic black Pigalle pumps and I guess the red bottoms drew a lot of attention, although I didn’t know it at the time. That’s actually the one thing I hate about Loubs, which is weird since most people buy them for the attention-grabbing red soles. Good news, they were far more comfortable than I expected. But then after the ceremony, we were all ushered out for drinks and canapés on the lawn - which if you’re a girl you know that spells trouble for high heels. Oh yes, I was doing that dreaded walk where my heels were sinking into the sod with each step I took but I was far from the only one, which was oddly comforting. I could only take so much of that before I just took the shoes off to stand barefoot in the grass. I looove my fashion goodies but I’m also a very practical girl at heart. High heels and grass do not mix, folks! And do you know what else doesn’t mix with high heels? Champagne. Eventually I had to choose to either keep on drinking champagne or continue wearing the heels since bubbly makes my ankles go wobbly. Guess which one won out. Thankfully I had a pair of beaded Steve Madden sandals to slip on and keep my ankles safe to see another day.