So all this time, I thought I was married to a Chinese man... only for Victor to go and turn into a Chinese girl. And by that I mean that, for his sister's wedding, he announced that he wanted us to wear matching outfits. Now, he is the first person to point out Chinese girls forcing their boyfriends to wear matching outfits and take photos with them, okay? And then making fun of the guys for being so spineless - just to me, you understand, he wouldn't actually go up to a strange couple and point fingers and laugh. He's got some manners.
Now, as you may guess, I wasn't too impressed with the idea. Especially when his arguments went something like this: "I know you like to wear your crazy colours and stuff, honey - but you don't always need to be the brightest frog in the lily-pond, you know?" This is a man who used to make fun of the Kooples store a few months ago - and who was suddenly holding it up as some kind of golden example. He just wanted us to match, he explained as he was buying me this wool dress to wear in Australia. Was that really such a bad thing? My only act of rebellion was adding these shoes to put my own quirky spin on the outfit, and since they matched, Victor gave them thumbs up.
In the end, he did kind of sell me on the concept. I mean, we do look kind of spiffy together, right? Like we're doing some kind of 1930's gangster-related dress-up, perhaps, but still... We're co-ordinated, right down to my lipstick. Also, that hat, which Victor tried on in Hong Kong airport and which I subsequently insisted he had to buy... how cute is my boy in that hat?! I mean, just look...
Victor is so hawt with a hat!
We also wound up getting some headshots done by Victor's other sister, while the bride and groom were having their glamour photos done and we were waiting around. In my defence, she did tell us to "do something crazy" for the last picture.
No, I didn't literally lick his face. Just so you know.