It’s always a special day when we get to feature the gorgeous Jewish wedding of one of our Brides Club members – and that goes doubly for today’s bride, who’s been a beloved member of our Smashing Life community for Jewish women for years prior to her engagement to groom Brant.
When the pair got engaged, it was only natural for Emily to join Brides Club, where she couldn’t get enough of the supportive community, inspiration, and helpful resources. In her words,
The encouragement and support was also invaluable as my mom passed 9yrs ago, and I just didn’t know who to ask about some of the important things. Coping with decisions I would normally ask my mom is also where Karen and her monthly sessions made me feel less alone – I could again, brag or problem solve or just talk weddings. Karen and the other Brides Club members stepped in, in a way, where I was missing my mom.
Honoring her mom was a big part of Emily’s wedding planning vision – and the couple’s stunning venue, Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin, Texas, was chosen in part because Emily had fond memories of visiting with her mom during her student days at The University of Texas at Austin.
We’ve also got to tell you Emily’s hilarious ketubah story. She won her gorgeous tree ketubah from Smashing The Glass Recommended Vendor Ink with Intent via a Smashing The Glass giveaway – before she was even engaged!
There’s so much more to say about this very special wedding, from Emily’s DIY prowess to the chuppah built by the groom to the taco menu – read on for the full story in her own words, plus the most joyous photos by Caitlin McWeeney Photography…
How We Met
Emily, the bride: I am a professor of health communication and I was working in Tyler, Texas. Brant had moved back to his hometown outside of Tyler (Brownsboro) to take care of his grandparents’ and their home and land. He was working with a company recalibrating gas station pumps at the time. And let me tell you, making friends in East Texas as a single, childless, Jewish 30-something was hard enough. But dating? So, the apps made it a bit easier, especially with a diameter of 100 miles.
But the problem is, I hate notifications: red bubbles, numbers telling me how many unread messages, and so forth. So after work one day, right before heading to Rose City Drafthouse (probably), I attempted to clear all of the notifications on my apps: Mail, Texts, and dating apps. As such, I answered all the “new” messages that had come in and were causing that red bubble to appear. One such message asked me what three movies I would take on a deserted island.
Easy: Remember the Titans, How to Lose a Guy In Ten Days, and apparently I didn’t have a third, so not as easy as I thought. His: Temple of Doom, From Russia with Love, and “maybe Cast Away.” We messaged back and forth about traveling, college, and jobs, this guy, Bobby, asked If I wanted to get dinner that Saturday once he was back in town. The conversation was easy and fun, and his Bumble profile says he’s over 6ft and he sometimes worked out. Sure! But I couldn’t Saturday, because of my friend’s surprise party, but how about Sunday?
As I pulled up to the restaurant (BJ’s Brewhouse, because they have gluten free options he said), I got frantic text messages from a new colleague. I texted Bobby (Brant? Who knows!) to tell him I was in the parking lot but had to take a work call. Only 10min late walking in (he says 30min… in fact every time he tells the story, the time increases), we then spent the next two or more hours talking and having a great time.
Unfortunately, he paid with cash so I couldn’t sneak his last name to stalk him on socials, but I did snag his digits to tell him I got back to Joey, my weenie dog, safely. Although I pretended I wasn’t into dating exclusively, I swept him to Dallas to see Billy Joel, we dressed up for Halloween pretty grandly, picked out pumpkins all basic-like at a pumpkin patch, and he helped me hobble around in my knee high walking boot. I knew by the time I took him to that Texas football game things were different this time.
