The other week, I fell down a rabbit hole I didn’t intend to. One minute, I was doom-scrolling TikTok in bed with my retainer in, and the next, I was watching Becca Bloom’s wedding content as if it were a Netflix mini-series. The multiple dress reveals, the floral masterpieces that cost more than a year’s worth of my rent, the tablescapes so glossy they made me feel ashamed about the Kmart plates sitting in my own sink.
Before Becca, us mere mortals were treated to

