t here’s something extra yummy about the term ‘local flavor.’ It connotes chin-drizzling freshness, farmer’s market quaintness and maybe a dash of loveable kook. Now that honeymoons and home-town pride are no longer mutually exclusive, it might be fine time to embrace your burg with the zeal of an outsider. The local holiday is definitely in vogue, and any craze championing economic smarts

w hen it comes to the first dance, brides that can work a dance floor from bubblegum-top to rawk-out bottom, may want to croon and swoon to something with a little more cuddle in it, but avoid a sleep-inducing soundscape à la any number of grey-overcoated and anatomical mis-en-scènes out there. This potential tremolo of quibble can be avoided by sticking to an up ‘n’ unbeatable sample of stic

t here’s nothing more endearing than a wide-eyed tyke, all gussied up in his or her Sunday best, inspiration-driven and skepticism-free. That is, until the mud-pies come a’calling and their latest sugar-high hits rock bottom. As bride-of-the-hour, if you just so happen to have an aversion to well-meaning cherubic handfuls, keep the peace with a few simple Miss Manners maneuvers, and sidestep th

a s a kid, the pool party totally clobbered the ice rink birthday, the scavenger hunt and the pizza party in the awesome department. It even thwarted the decorate-your-own-cookie party, and that involved unlimited frosting. So what better way to celebrate a mature commitment to the cultured man of your reveries than to backslide to the days of polka-dot bikinis, crazy straws and iced tea yore? Mayb

t hose who spend the engagement period indulging in first kiss nostalgia and wedding china anxiety are missing out on a seriously good period of grace. Your hearts are definitely hooked but babies seem light years away, so why not channel all butterflies into giddy bliss? No question, planning a party for two clans, plus posses, plus workplace overflow is no easy feat, yet there’s also no joy in