5.08.2013

Pigtails and Purple Pants

Every great love story begins somewhere...
Even if that somewhere is a bar.
Steven and I met early last summer at a bar in downtown Birmingham. I was finishing up college and began playing kickball on a local league in Birmingham (AKA: I joined the Thursday night drinking club).  After the kickball games we would continue our drunk fest at a couple of local bars downtown.  
You can probably already imagine the drunken idiots we looked like walking into a bar in full on kickball attire. The night I met Steven I think I even had my hair pulled back into pigtails. PIGTAILS. Why Steven even made eye contact with this hot mess, I will never know. But he did, and I made eye contact back at him. And before I knew it he was buying me a drink (or 5).
Just an example of the kickball drunkfest. Heyyy Rach

I later convinced Steven to take part in my weekly drinking club kickball game.

Before stumbling out of the bar with my friends I had given Steven my phone number. I honestly thought that I would never hear from that guy again, but sure enough I did. The very next morning. He ended up asking me out for that weekend. I agreed (if anything just so I could prove to him that I don’t normally stumble around in bars wearing pigtails).  After hours of texting, however, we realized it didn’t make sense to wait until the next night to go out on our date, and made plans to meet after work for drinks.
I was working as a nanny at the time, and didn’t have time to go home and change before our date, so I showed up in PURPLE pants, a black tank top, and some wedges (that didn’t match) that I found sitting in the back on my car. Perfect first date outfit, right? No.
Not the night of our first date, but you get the idea.. 

He gave me pink roses on our first date. I knew he was a keeper (even if he thought I was a a crazy person and didn't know how to properly dress myself).

So, not only was I sporting pigtails and kickball gear the night we met, but I wore purple pants the very next day for our first date. I don’t know why he didn’t go running. Obviously I'm insane and tend to dress like a 5 year old from time to time. But really, he's the one that continued to go out with me, so he’s kind of the one to blame here.
Fun fact: we chose purple for our wedding color to honor the infamous purple pants.
Luckily I toned my wardrobe down for date numbers 2-10, but by damn I brought my fun outfits back out as soon as he got comfortable with me. He constantly tells me that I dress “weird” or “loud.”   
Sorry hun, jeans and a t-shirt just aren’t my style.

339 days until we say I do! 

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