“Oh, hello, Myrtle — gosh, but it’s been so long. It’s lovely to see you again. What have y–”
“Bitch, I got mine.”
“Myrtle?”
“BITCH. I. GOT. MINE.”
“Oh, hello. I suppose you must have noticed that the three of us have got ours.”
“Pardon me. I didn’t notice you come in. I’ve been too busy getting mine.”
“I GOT MINE.”
“Yes, I’m quite aware that he’s looking at me, thanks ever so. I know he is, because I’ve got mine.”
whispers intently “Motherfucker, I have got mine. Yes, you can crop him out of the frame, just keep the ring front and center.”
“Yes, I’ve got mine. Don’t you think you’d better look away now and focus on getting yours?”
“I don’t care if he is. I’ve got mine, and only just in time, too.”
Oh, yes. That’s the look of a woman who’s Got Hers.
“Oh, hello. Fancy running into you here. As you can see, I’ve got mine.”
The quiet satisfaction of a woman who has gotten hers.
”Oh, yes, girls, I’ve got mine. I’ve got mine.”
“You’ll forgive me for not making eye contract just now, darling, but as you can see, I’ve only very recently Got Mine, so I just don’t have the time to go looking at you anymore.”
“Not much to look at, but I got mine, just the same.”
Tags: edwardians, engagement photos, false modesty, historical heterosexuality, history, i got mine, marriage, oh this old thing, photography
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I just imagine everyone in these pictures is going on to enact Dorothy Parker’s short story ‘Here We Are Then’ on their honeymoon.
I’ve spent the past three days frantically trying to come up with a hairstyle for my wedding in a week and a half, but now I know. The third lady from the top in that badass black gown with fourteen full inches of hair on her head and the most alarmingly smug smile? DONE.
And look at her waist. Beauty is suffering. Holy crap.
Her hair is bananas, but that’s a lot of nostril for a wedding portrait.
But how else would you get to see Exactly How High Her Nose Is? I feel like that’s the international sign for “I’ve married someone SO high-class I can’t even put my head down properly anymore and must sleep on a stack of pillows.”
You have to show a lot of nostril when you’re looking down your nose at all the single people in the world.
I love her … arm ribbons? Whatever those are. Why are arm ribbons not in style right now.
I know, that dress is amazing!
She looks amazing, and that is a lot of nostril, but I can’t stop staring at that crazy waist. It’s like I need to send heartfelt sympathy cards to her internal organs.
18 inch waist, according to Wikipedia.
I caught myself hoping her waist was photoshopped. How painful.
Is The Toast getting married/engaged? I’m so pleased for it. I hope the other website is nice.
“I tried to tell you people that if you let the gays marry, then websites would start marrying each other as well. I TOLD YOU!”
—Rick Santorum
The bible clearly defines website marriage as between a dotnet and a dotcom for the explicit purposes of creating brand equity. I will not have people redefining marriage to allow a dot-u-s to marry a dot-c-a.
no I just love smug bitches
we all do, Mallory. We all do.
What is this other website; pray, due tell! I see oblique references here and there and I’m so curious!
Okay, but can The Toast have a (making fun of) wedding (horror) day/week? And then I can snarkily cross-post ALL OF THEM to my Facebook wall?
I think bride #1 may actually be being held prisoner. Why is he clasping her hand like that!? Does he not know how human beings hold hands?
BITCH SHE’S GOT HERS
Eighth bride down… Kristen Wiig? Is that you, getting yours in the past?
SERIOUSLY. Grandma Wiig?
Had the exact same thought! Clearly Kristen Wiig is a time traveller addicted to getting hers.
Came down here just to say the same thing, but you beat me to it.
This is hilarious. “I don’t care if he is.”
I am belly laughing at this. Nothing like the smug satisfaction of the newly engaged.
I like the last bride there — she’s gently holding her husband in place, where he belongs.
I freaking LOVE this post. Smug bitches are tops.
The gal, fifth from the bottom, doing the wicked over-the-shoulder smolder, I can’t help but imagine her head is shaved on the sides and she’s wearing not a long-sleeved, collared dress, but a tailored suit jacket.
She got hers, all right. SHE GOT HERSELF A BRIDE.
Mr. Not Much To Look At looks eerily like adorable stoner Corny in Veronica Mars. Evidence: presented.
Petition for “I GOT MINE!” to replace the odd, third person “She said yes!” engagement announcements on Facebook.
First- why don’t we get our pictures taken at the most flattering angles anymore? Snapshots do no-one justice (except the one of Mallory at prom but that’s just a fluke.)
Second- Rennaisance lady looks like she could hire a bravo to kill you. I’m a little concerned about it even at the distance of 400 years.
Really hoping the second photo was taken for the benefit of a fourth friend who hasn’t yet gotten hers, for maximum smugness.
Yisss, that one is the most absurdly smug one here. Some of these other folks could be wearing expressions besides smug, but the eye-daggers coming from those three have almost come into physical manifestation from here.
Smug Bitches Smuglympics.
in my head i’ve decided that the fourth friend is totally gretchen and can’t understand why no one told her about wearing pink on wednesdays.
“…and none for Gretchen Wieners, bye!”
The middle lady in the trio of brides is the one who knows what’s happening later that night. She got hers and now she’s getting some.
The 8th one day looks like Kristen Wiig
OMG THAT FIRST ONE IS JEN PRINGLE!
Which is funny, since Jen Pringle was certainly Ms. Smuglina McSmuggerson (at least before she got her comeuppance), even though she wasn’t engaged (at Summerside High, anyway).
I initially read the title as “History’s Smuggest Bridges” and was really extra into it. I’m not sure what that says about me.
“Hey, Tappan Zee,” says the Verrazano Narrows, “Look at me, I’ve got mine. And you’ve got a weird name. Ha ha.”
One half of the modern Tacoma Narrows bridge narrows it’s eyes viciously as it’s other half undergoes construction, muttering “Look at me now, Gertie. LOOK AT ME. I got mine.”
That Brooklyn Bitch, who does she think she is?
Are we 100% sure that the one with the cropped-out beau isn’t actually a corpse being held up by some kind of brace? Because she died the night before her wedding? And they wanted to remember her? And they had to crop her fiance out because he wouldn’t stop screaming?
I just assume that all 1850s-1860s photos are from Funerals. They never fail to send a shudder down my spine.
I like your alternate explanation a lot.
If she’s alive, she’s got a bad case of the Crazy Eyes. She’s seriously going to shiv the first person who jokingly asks her “So when are you two going to have kids now?” with a commemorative cake server.
The eyes are too full for post-mortem photography – but I was wondering if there was going to be one.
If I may submit a photo not from my engagement but from my wedding? I’m not sure who I’m speaking to here or what it’s about, but this sums up how I feel about my husband.
lol this is adorable
Now I’m looking over all these photos and gosh how exhausted and giddy I look. The “exhausted” is because we did all this ourselves, so the night before the wedding, I came home from the lovely tapas dinner with some friends, got into bed, and laid there next to my sleeping partner with my eyes shut, trying not to keep calculating whether we had enough [cups/chairs/square footage for dancing/lemonade/gin], until 5:30 when I decided it was okay to get up.
So I piled a night of literally not a wink of sleep atop several weeks of poor sleep. For our honeymoon (fortunately, a modest retreat to a family-owned cottage, not something involving travel or a foreign language), we both acted like we’d taken blows to the head: wandering around, trailing off while talking, falling asleep at random intervals.
The giddiness is because, well, sure: he’s the greatest. I had not a single doubt about him; my only pangs of wedding anxiety were either socially-indoctrinated RAGE AGAINST THE PATRIARCHY stuff or purely practical catering-a-big-crowd questions.
Well, it’s all fun & games showing your wedding slideshow (súch a lovely couple btw), but now I want to marry the fella in slide IMGP4528. As I have outgrown my careful years, I’m just going to come out with it…Is he perchance un-taken? 😉
OF COURSE YOU DO. He’s my brother-in-law, my husband’s younger brother; if you look closely you can see they have the same gorgeous eyes. And sorry, he’s spoken for; I got the very last one floating free in that family of adorable heartbreakers.
Boo for me but yeeey for his lady 🙂 (She got hers 😉
Love it.
Tied for favorite between #4 and #6. #4 is serving fierce sartorial style and an almost beatific smugness, but I enjoy #6’s “crop him out, I ain’t care I GOT MINE.” hard stare.
the lady in black with the hair is Camille Clifford btw! and gorgeous.
https://www.google.com/search?q=camille+clifford&…
I love Camille Clifford. She hooked herself a rich husband and title and retired just before flappers came in vogue. Awesome timing, Camille!
I’m all confuzzled as to why they didn’t use Clifford’s actual engagement photo: https://fashionthroughhistory.files.wordpress.com… because the smugness there is maximal.
Wait, what did they get?
As an aside, the whispering bride has a horrifying stare. I expect that moments after that picture was taken, blood exploded out of something (the walls, her face, the camera…)
engaged 🙂
(they got engaged)
Gal number 3 has some excellent bitchface. I aspire to that level of smugness. (I fear for her internal organs, though)
*Man chases down smug woman *
M: Excuse me!!!! HEY YOU! Smile! Why aren’t you smiling?
W: No need – I got mine.
*flashes ring, pushes man into oncoming traffic.*
W: You got yours.
*puffs cigarette, flicks onto lifeless body, walks away*
Dirtbag Smug Bride is the best Smug Bride.
Mr. Not Much to Look At has TWO watch chains, so. I mean. No wonder she’s smug.
Bride #1 = Natalie Dormer?
Who terrifies me, by the way. I love a smug bitch but dead eyes
In my head the three brides are all married to each other.
Best.
So perfect.
WE got OURS.
Bitch.
There is this wonderful photo from our wedding day where my wife just looks unbearably smug.
We have it framed in our living room.
NOBODY had the I Got Mine look down like Lucy Webb Hayes. And why wouldn’t she? Rutherford was fine.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:RutherfordLucyH…
YUP! That is a face that says “That’s right, bitchez.”
I feel like you might be the target audience for that Karen Russell short story about U.S. Presidents who are reincarnated as horses, and Rutherford starts thinking that one of the farm’s sheep is his reincarnated wife Lucy but he’s not sure.
I fucking love this site. Nothing further to add.
I am probably going to look like this in a lot of my recently taken engagement pictures, but only because trying to hold your face in the same configuration for an extended period of time in which you’re never sure exactly when the photographer is going to take the picture leads to some weird ass frozen expressions.
What do I have to do to have as much swag as Bride #3?
Note: murder is not out of the question.
Go on stage and be a really lousy actress, but no one cares because you’re officially the Hottest Thing on three continents.
At least three continents.
What do I have to do to have as much swag as Bride #3?
Note: murder is not out of the question.
THE RING IS ON HER MIDDLE FINGER THOUGH
OF COURSE YOU DO. He's my brother-in-law, my husband's younger brother; if you look closely you can see they have the same gorgeous eyes. And sorry, he's spoken for; I got the very last one floating free in that family of adorable heartbreakers.
Ever since I saw The Seven Year Itch, I’ve always wanted there to be a perfect opportunity for me to say “thanks ever so” in public. Preferably with a breathy voice and one of those coy looking-out-from-underneath-your-eyelashes deals.
Pretty sure there’s not a legit moment for this to be acceptable, but a girl can dream.
Are we not mentioning that the bride on the right in picture #2 is definitely January Jones?