on a midnight train going anywhere...

When Chad and I got married, I was a bridezilla about one thing, and one thing only:

The music at the reception.

The morning of my wedding, while I was supposed to be sitting still for the makeup artist to do her job, I had my laptop in my lap burning a CD that the band could play while they were on their breaks. My do-not-play list was about 100 songs long, and I scoured the internet for every awful, cheesy wedding song that I could possibly tick off.

What I wanted: Classic Rock/Eighties Dance Party.

What I got: So... um.

Bon Jovi? Tom Petty? Whitesnake? Guns and Roses?

Yeah... not so much.

But there was this moment, at the very end of the night, when the band seemed to realize that the all the oldies and the wedding songs had been played, and that the people who were still dancing were basically all under 30.

So they threw us a bone.

And that bone was Journey's Don't Stop Believin'.

So now, when I remember our wedding, I remember the cake and the flowers and our families and how happy I was. And how, weirdly, one of the happiest moments of the whole crazy day was when I finally got my 80s Dance Party moment.

And best of all: they followed up with a Michael Jackson montage (that one was Chad's request).

None of this has anything to do with the outfit I'm wearing, except that whenever I see train tracks, I think of that song, our wedding, and just kind of smile.

Lanvin top, ASOS skirt, gifted Falke tights, Alexis Bittar and J. Crew bracelets, gifted Payless heels, gifted Chanel sunglasses (via Lenscrafters).