Being the obsessively frugal, penny-pinching person that I am—and often hopelessly disappointed when fresh flowers wilt and shed pollen all over the table 2 days after purchasing—I decided there was no way I'd have fresh flowers at my wedding.
It'd be a waste.
I couldn't afford the hundreds of dollars that a florist would charge.
We got married in November out in the countryside of PA ... there were no farmer's markets to source zinnias from, nor were there really any wildflowers still kicking around.
What did I do?
I made clay flowers. With my hands. And people thought I was nuts. People couldn't wrap their minds around the concept of clay flowers ("Won't they be awfully heavy?"). And they thought it was a lot of work for a little bride to take on.
But I did. And here's my story.