Day 12 of 30: Wedding ask-o-rama

I spent Sunday in my pjs.

After a week of 13 hour days, I took the weekend completely off.

It was amazing.

Coffee...

              leftover pizza...

                               and flipping through wedding magazines!

I also spent quite a few hours online, looking for all the stuff I've been thinking about but too busy to investigate. And made a bunch of calls. Here's the status of those negotiations.

Photographer

An editor I work with recommended a photographer she knows, based in L.A. I saw her website and my heart started fluttering. Her pictures are breathtaking. I sent her an email, and when I heard back my heart sank: the cheapest package starts at $3,000, and if I want an album it jumps to $4,000. That is significantly above my (not yet fully determined) photo budget. All I know is that I can't afford to spend that much on photos. Even if I cut out other options -- and I believe she's worth that sacrifice -- I still can't pull that much together without cutting the guest list in half or doing the reception in my driveway.

But I replied saying I'd love to talk, and on Sunday we connected.

First of all, she was incredibly nice. We completely hit it off. Doesn't make my bank account bigger, sadly, but it was a good beginning!

Second, I found out that she is willing to create custom packages for people who can't pay her full fee.

"Really? That is such a relief! Because I would definitely want to compensate you for your time and talent. Your pictures are so amazing. But if you'd be willing to work fewer hours for less money or you could not include an assistant and take fewer pictures, then that would definitely allow me to make this work. But I also definitely want to make sure you're earning enough because you are so talented."

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure we can work something out."

Gained: A photographer!? I'll keep you posted on how it plays out.

Lost: Nothing.

Afterthought: Glancing at her portfolio, I could sense the amount of thought -- and innate talent -- that goes into framing each shot. That's worth a lot, and she is right to charge as much as she does. (Objections to the exorbitant wedding premium aside, if other photographers are charging 3, 4, and 5k for pics, she should definitely be at least in that range. She's amazing.)

That's why I was careful not to ask for a flat out discount, but to scale down both price and services.

Wedding coordinator

I am not a DIY bride. I'm a bride. 

The "DIY" tag is the latest trick of the wedding industry to convince us that NOT doing things yourself is the default. 

In linguistics they call that marking. In the olden days, most professions were a masculine default, so when a delicate she-creature venture into their territory they added the -ess ending: poetess, doctoress, actress, waitress. Today, some professions still have a feminine default, and you have to add "male" to clarify: male nurse, male dancer.

Same with this wedding lingo: nowadays if you don't add "DIY," the assuption is that you're getting the full package, including a 5k wedding planner. 

Wrong on so many levels.

Ok, rant over. Because...

I have come to the conclusion that I can't do everything by myself.

On the day of the event, I will need someone to cue the band, put a sign up pointing to where the reception is, make sure the food is ready on time. Stuff like that.

So I talked to one planner, and she was energetic and asked smart questions. But $400? For 6 hours? Maybe I don't get how difficult it is or what kind of training you need, but I would have pegged this for a $20/hour job. (Am I mistaken? Any day-of coordinators shooting smoke from their ears? Enlighten me!)

Bottom line: I will have to negotiate, or find someone more affordable or get creative. Maybe a local college student would be happy to make $150 on a Saturday night, bossing people around?

Live music

I had this vision of a gypsy fiddler wandering around the tables during the reception and playing his frenzied tunes. Not gonna happen in Southern California. Instead, I found something else really cool: a Django Reinhardt-y trio. Heard their music online and it was grooveh.

I left a message on their website saying I wanted to book them for a cocktail party, and when he called back he asked me for details.

"A wedding!" he said when I filled him in. "Well why didn't you say so!?"

"Does that mean you have to charge me double now?"

He explained that weddings have a lot more options: a bigger group, more hours, rah rah rah.

I answered that we need to stick to the cocktail option, since I can't pay for live music for the whole evening.

Then he explained their strange pricing structure. Maybe 'structure' isn't the right word, since he seemed to be kind of approximating.

"Between one... to three hours... we charge... $1,200."

"I'm confused. So even if you'd play for 2 hours, you'd charge me for 3?"

He sounded confused that I was confused. "Yes, why?"

"Would you be willing to charge less if it was not the full 3 hours?"

He told me it's not worth it to them to come out for anything less than $1,000, but he'd do two hours for that much.

Doesn't seem like a good value.

They do sound like some cool cats... but I was hoping it would be around $300 an hour for the trio, not $500 per hour for more time than I needed. I don't know going rates, but that's about what I'd mentally budgetted for.

Gained: The option to save $200 on something more costly than what I'd bargained for. I think I could work with him to bring the price down, but if it's not worth it to him, I don't know if I should bother.

Lost: Live music option, for now.

Bartender

I found a bartender on Craigslist and checked out his website. There was one thing I especially liked: he works with the client's alcohol. That means there's no markup (well, a retail markup but there might be ways around that), and we can return whatever we don't drink. Perfect!

We chatted on the phone, and he revealed that he'd be willing to lower his prices if I can't pay the full fee for all the fixings. I hadn't asked yet, but I think he sensed I wasn't going to sign up on the spot and pay full price.

I'm not sure if is business is hurting or if he's just the negotiating type.

Either way, I'm quite persuaded.

Gained: Confirmation that I should negotiate with him. He's sending me a complete quote and we'll take it from there.

Lost: Nothing.

Question: Any suggestions for signature cocktails?

image: lauriebailey.com

Day 9 of 30: Discount on a group of hotel rooms?

Ah, behind! Apologies, gentle reader.


I took the weekend off and threw myself into wedding planning. And I was in more of a digging/researching/calling mode, and less of a storytelling mode.

In light of this, I'm putting of the asking challenge deadline by one more day. So if you haven't asked yet -- to give or get money, in any amount -- go for it on Monday! And share your stories at this link.

Ok. So, back to Thursday...

I called a hotel to ask about discounted rates for wedding guests. I'd gone once before and talked to the manager, and he told me to call back and they'd set up a good rate.

First, I asked what the discount would be if I reserved rooms for a small group for two nights.

"We can do 10 percent off."

"I see. Well, when I came by to visit the manager told me he would give me a great rate. What if the group were bigger -- like, 30 or 40 people?"

"Still 10 percent."

"Really? I'm wondering if there's any way we could work better something out, maybe if we rented it for more than 2 nights? Some people are coming for a longer time and I'm also trying to find housing for them."


"10 percent off is the max."

"Not even if I rented out the whole hotel, or rented it for more than 2 nights?! What if I rented out the whole place for a week?"

"No. That is our group rate."

Suddenly the collaborative, consensus building nice girl slinked away and out came the bedouin camel trader. With suspenders.

"I'd like to bring you business, a lot of business -- possibly rent out your whole hotel for several nights, but you've got to give me a better price. Ten percent is not good enough. I want to bring you tens of thousands of dollars of business and all you're give me is ten percent? I need a better rate to make this work. What is the best rate you can give me? It has to be better than 10 percent off."

"No, that is our summer discount."

He had a point. Summer = big bucks for San Diego beachfront hotels, which this was.


But now I have a point: As I spoke my mind, I felt kind of a rush. I felt like I was making a great proposition: I bring you clients for a whole week, and you give me a better than standard discount. I felt secretly impressed that I sounded the way I've heard some men talking into their cell phones: confident, trading millions with the click of a button or an imperious bark. "You have to do better. I'm not budging unless you come down to 2...Then you can keep waiting...I'm not playing around...I don't care!!...No. Get your numbers straight and stop wasting my time. 2! I said 2!!!!!!! Ok. Get back to me in 30."

The hotel employee was utterly disinterested by both my friendly and tough approaches, but I wonder if I'd been a man -- would he have been more open to that hard negotiation style?

After my year of daily asking, I found out that when I took the wheeling and dealing approach (W 'n' D, below) I was not very successful. In fact, I was even more successful I was a total, all out bitch. When I tried to be a cool confident brash negotiator, people recoiled. (More analysis here.)

I'm tempted to try one more time, not for the discount but to test if

1. approaching him in person
2. establishing rapport
3. learning about his objectives (maximize profits? fill hotel room quota? get better travelocity ratings?) and
4. asking in a warmer 'feminine' way

could make a difference. Now wouldn't that be interesting? [drumming fingers together ominously]




Gained: a glimpse of myself as a ballsy wheeler-n-dealer
Lost: belief that it's the right approach for me. darn! it was kind of fun!!

Friday through Sunday posts, coming Monday. Now: zzzz.

Day 7 of 30: Can we say the daily (on average) asker?

I worked 13  hours yesterday, which was Day 7 of this month long askathon: late meeting, some extra work that landed on my lap unexpectedly and the usual workflow.

In the olden days, if meetings started after business hours, I'd take that time off earlier in the day. Long lunch. Come in at noon. That's what my bosses instructed me to do. Now my boss is this deadline driven beeeyatch called La Roxy, and she didn't give me any time off. "You'll sleep when you're dead!" she hissed.

...Not complaining. It was actually a very satisfying day. Just a preface to let you know that...

My ask Tuesday fell short.

I asked the priest, via email, what time the wedding ceremony should start, so I can send out invitations. We'll be meeting later to talk about details, but I wanted to get that info as soon as possible.

Not hall of fame material.

But, for whatever it's worth: On Sunday and Monday, I asked a total of six times and only reported two. And those other requests were ambitious, things I never would have thought to do before The Daily Asker. Two were on a professional front (rate negotiations) and two on a networking front (asked to connect with two interesting people in my field).

So I think it's ok to relax for one day.

But. Gentle Reader. Fear not. I decided to ask daily again because I'm feeling like I need to reach out again in ways I haven't been doing, recently. One day of relaxed asking does not mean lower standards, overall. So I hope you won't tune out if these requests lately haven't been THAT inspiring. We have 23 days left. I'm asking more than I'm reporting and being selective about which stories to share. And I'm just getting started.

Gained: Nothing yet; waiting for his answer.

Lost: 120 seconds composing the email.

Day 5 of 30: Super duper discount on gorgeous antique wedding rings?

 

A few months back, I outlined the terms of The Wedding Asking Challenge: Try to negotiate every essential component of the grand fete. Exceptions will be made for exceptional values. Money saved will be invested, not turned into sangria the weekend after the wedding. (Actually, that does sound tempting...) Bottom line: I refuse to pay the bridal premium -- to the best of my ability. For, like any lass in love with dusty rose and silk organza, I may end up springing for a few little luxuries just because it's my wedding.

Swooooooon!

A recent objective has been to find wedding rings. I looked online and in department stores including Bloomingdale's. I stepped inside a few insipid chain stores and made a rapid u-turn (Whitehall, Zales and the like) and I spent a good 10 minutes inside one super mega discounter. The lowest price I could find there was $450 for his n' her simple yellow gold bands. Online, Overstock and Amazon had some sets for around $350 with the width and carat that worked. But while Mr. A liked the idea of expedited shipping, I wasn't convinced.

Then Alex, who is half of a fantastic couple Mr. A and I have befriended over the past year, told me where she found her stunning white gold Edwardian wedding band.

The man with the treasure box.

There this antique store in Ocean Beach, a neighborhood in San Diego lined with second hand delights, where a nice man has a treasure box  FILLED with gorgeous rings. Antique rings, diamonds and silver and ruby. 

For INSANELY low prices.

If she were typing, I bet Alex would have used ALL CAPS to convey her devotion to and enthusiasm for this place. So I think it's fair to do the same.

Today, I went in with Mr. A, and her words rang true. It was AMAZING!!

Ken, the ring man, took out the solid little box that must have contained around 300 rings. He told me to take a handful, put them on the counter and sort them into "no" or "maybe." I couldn't believe what I was seeing: An exquisite gold and diamond band for $65. A delicate garnet solitaire on a 14k gold band for a pittance. One ring from the 1890s which I won't describe because it was so beautiful. And so cheap. And so mine. Wait. Wedding bands. Self control. Self control.

Mr. A started valiantly by my side, but after about 70 rings he took off to check out the vintage telephones and gadgets.

Meanwhile, I went through the box and ended up setting aside about 20 "maybe" rings. I separated those into "Not really" "Maybe maybe" "Possible" and "Probable."

Next we looked for matching rings for him, and that further narrowed the options down. All were yellow gold and simple, with at most a milgrain design on the rim.

As I was trying them on again, Mr. A found something unbelievable: a ring from 1880. Inside, the worn inscription read "June 30, 1880" beside two sets of initials.

"I love the 1880s!" I exclaimed. (It meant it. Of all the decades of the 19th century, I have a strong preference for three: the 1830s, the 1850s and the 1880s. For aesthetic reasons, mostly. And a few technological / legal / political reasons, too.)

"My friend in Spain lives in a house from the Roman times. The walls are Roman and the roof was from 1650. So he'd say 1880 is like new. But for these parts, that ring has history," Ken told us.

That ring was also more expensive than the rest -- $195. It still cost less than most rings of that size and weight I'd seen anywhere else, but more than the others in this store. Mr. A found an almost identical band (which would have to be resized, adding an another $30 or so) and we agreed it was time to make the purchase. Which meant it was it time to ask.

"Can you give these to us for a better price?"

"No. I absolutely cannot. On gold, I don't negotiate one bit."

Whaaaaaa?

Ken!? Kenster, Kenerino, my buddy, my friend? We'd been talking for at least an hour about rings, and design, and history, and weddings, and married life, and male/female ring choosing rituals. (FYI: Women spend hours imagining what each ring will say about them, about their relationship, how the ring will sit on their hand at age 80. Men just grab the simplest thing they can, as fast as they can, and hit the door.)

That was the last thing I expected, in the heart of Ocean Beach. This was negotiation central! I'd bargained down things left and right in this neighborhood, for years! But come to think of it, the shopper right before me tried to get the price down on another ring by asking to pay cash and skip the tax. Ken refused.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just don't negotiate for gold or silver. My prices are already lower than anything else you'll find."

Indeed, as I was inspecting the rings, he mentioned that whatever he pays for an item, he doubles to set his price. The standard jewelry retail markup is five times the wholesale purchase price, not double, said he. "I keep my prices low because I'm not like the other guys. They want to sell you one big ring, once in your life. But me, I know there are anniversaries. And birthdays. And babies coming. I want to be the place you come back to again and again."

Ken seemed to really know his business and love his work. And when he looked into my eyes to answer questions, his gaze was unflinching. I trusted Ken. I wanted to buy my wedding ring from him. I could tell Mr. A felt the same way.

We stepped aside and conferred. There was another set of rings, also lovely, but without that patina. Those other rings fit us perfectly, so we wouldn't have to resize anything. Together, they would be $60 cheaper than the antique set. (Or $90 cheaper, if you counted the sizing.)

"What's $60 over the course of a lifetime? Get the one you want more," Mr. A told me.

"Yes, but marriage is also about being responsible, not giving in to whimsy."

"That's true too. But please, don't hold back because of the price."

I kept trying them on, asking him to try them on, even placing them on his finger myself to see which one slid more willingly, in preparation for that sacred moment in the church...  I just wasn't sure, I wasn't sure... but the more I thought about it, the less I felt I wanted the old, expensive ring...

And then Mr. A shared one more thought: "Actually, I feel that if you want history, you should find it in your family. We will make our own history."

With that, we purchased the rings we preferred. No negotiation, but I am certain we made the right decision.

Closing thoughts:

1) Buyers: Before negotiating, distinguish between emotional/sentimental purchases and impulsive ones.

By 'emotional' I don't mean hormonal or impulse driven, but those that are guided by sentiment, nostalgia, desire, or any other warm and fuzzy feeling. Emotional attachment is worth something. Impulse, not so much.

If the age/year truly mattered in my conception of marriage, then that 1880 ring would have been worth the extra money. But Mr. A's probing comment made me realize what truly matters to us: starting something fresh. I can get something from 1880 -- a map or a book. It doesn't have to be my wedding ring when there's something equivalent in quality and comfort, for less money.

Same goes for any other purchase you ascribe a certain sentimental value to: your first home, the pen you'll be proofreading your novel with, the hotel you stay at the day you accept the Oscar (and other big moments we all routinely face): What matters, truly, and what's just impulse? What connection to that object, experience or service will give you a lasting dividend, and what will fizzle by dawn? Knowing this will help you know when to put your money down and when to walk away.

2) Sellers: When you offer something of true and legitimate worth, not lowering your price can make the buyer value you even more. 

This depends on how you do it. Ken spent a whole hour proving to me, in subtle and obvious ways, that his jewelry is worth every cent. Since he also knows his product is worth every cent, he refused to budge. In a way, that makes me prize the rings even more: I know I got a good deal, because I got a great value.

Lost: One negotiation victory.

Gained: Took one more step toward turning my treasure of a fiance into my husband.

image: ffffound.com

How to score a discount on a wedding dress

Months before the dress shopping journey, when we first sat down and drew up a budget, Mr. A and I put down $1000 as target. In all honesty, I expected mine to cost $200. I'd find it on sale at Nordstrom Rack. Simple. Basic. Classy. Who'd be crazy enough to buy a dress that will cost her $600 an hour to wear it?

Apparently, I am.

Because after all those resolutions, I saw the dress.

THE DRESS.

Swooooon.

Ok, here's how this happened. I'd already been to three places and nothing called out to me. I tried on everything from statuesque, flowy Grecian gowns to a slinky Marylin Monroe get-up to traditional a-lines and lacey senorita looks. Some were blah, some were quite lovely, but nothing was moi.

One afternoon, on a whim, I stumbled into an upscale bridal retailer. I had 30 minutes to spare between meetings in the area, they had no appointments at the time (it was that kind of place, with appointments and consultations and basically way above my budget) so I figured, why not. Try on something that costs as much as a car in India. Live a little.

And of course, that's where I saw the dress.

$2,300. Plus $400 for alterations and $300 for a veil and shoes?

Divided by 5 hours? You do the math.

Still drooling, I made a mental note of the brand, went home and started a bigtime Google campaign. For weeks I tried to find it for a better price. No luck. I tried on other dresses at more affordable and even similarly priced stores, doing everything I could to forget it. No go. Finally, I called back and asked if they could come down on the price. I explained that it's waaaaay above my budget but I love it. Any hope?

And just like that, she offered to sell the sample for half price.

I went in and tried it on again, to be sure.

She told me the dress had been worn cumulatively for an hour.

It was spotless, and with a cleaning it would be like new.

But I hesitated. It was still a lot.

And then I remembered what she said. "We're closed Thursday, because we need to prepare for a major sale Friday."

So I asked: "If I buy it tonight, can you already give me the sale price?"

Here's what she answered: "Yes. But please. Go home, sleep on it, and we'll hold it for you until tomorrow."

And that is how I ended up buying an almost-new $2300 dress for $800. Still more than my Nordstrom Rack fantasy gown, but perfect in every way.

Here's what I learned:

1. Give yourself plenty of time. Rushing brides have zero power.

2. Be upfront about your budget. At every place I went, I told them my budget and every single retailer was willing to come down on the price. Paying sticker is completely unnecessary. Just fyi. :)

3. If you're buying veil, shoes etc, don't forget to negotiate. I decided not to buy accessories yet, but I would have tried to get the total down if I was buying everything at once. Hopefully I can still work a better price for the extras, to keep the whole combo under our target.

4. Comparison shop to death. Sometimes a discount retailer has the same dress for $200 less, two hours away. (I saw this with other brands, but not mine.) Worth it? You decide. But at least you have the option. Also, tons of websites have used/sample/discount dresses, and either you shop there or use that as a bargaining chip.

5. Be honest with yourself. I thought an understated white cocktail dress from a department store was right for me, but once I tried on a few frillier dresses, I discovered I wanted something more conventional. So be it.

6. But remember that it's just a few hours. Just one night. I say this because I wasn't willing to pay more than what I did. Maybe a little more -- but definitely not sticker price on that dress.

Bottom line: Every bridal retailer, from the discount warehouse type to three luxury boutiques, was willing to come down on the price -- sometimes even before I asked. Hey, even 10 percent is something. And if you're willing to make compromises, you can find some really sweet deals.

[image credit: ffffound.com]

Wedding Budget

Long ago I started posting about wedding planning and negotiations. Then some stuff happened, and then more stuff.

Well, at last it's time to pick up where I left off!

Here's what Mr. A and I budgetting for. I won't include amounts (yet) because this will affect ongoing negotiations. The list will probably change as we advance, but here's a general plan.

1. Church: ceremony + priest fee
2. Church decoration
3. Ceremony music
4. Reception: rental + food + cake + alcohol + coffee + insurance + tips
5. Reception music
6. Personnel fees (waiters, security guards, whatnot, if applicable)
7. Dress+accessories+alteration+shoes
8. Some kind of hair intervention
9. Tux
10. Rings
11. Invitations
12. Photographer
13. Day before tango lesson for our guests
14. Night before fun (rehearsal dinner/cocktails/bbq/tbd)
15. Babysitter for the kiddies
16. Marriage license

The specifics range from very simple (ipod; do my own makeup) to more complicated (we want a reception that runs late and lets us dance -- on a Saturday).

My goal is twofold: 1) bring the price down on every item that exceeds our target budget through asking, negotiation and/or compromise and 2) avoid paying the Bridal Surplus.

How will I fare? First update, just around the corner.

[image credit: ffffound.com]

Wedding Priorities

Five things are non-negotiable:

1. The bride and groom.

2. The guests. We're not the kind of people to cut the wedding list in half so everyone coming can get nicer favors. Once we decided we'd only invite family and close friends, that means there is no room or desire to trim.

3. The budget.

4. The decision to get married in a church, especially since our families desire that.

5. Our compulsive desire party late into the night. We met at tango, we're both nightowls, and we both happen to have this vision of an espresso cart rolling in around 1 a.m., fueling a frenzied second wind...

Everything else -- the food, the music, the location, the season, the dress, the flowers, the presence or absence of a gypsy violinist to serenade the guests they imbibe a custom or non-custom cocktail -- is up for discussion. Not to say we don't have preferences (some of them strong), but as long as we consider every other element of the wedding as optional, we'll a) have more bargaining power and b) not make decisions that push us beyond our budget, regardless of that bargaining.

Next: The budget!

[image credit]

The Wedding Asking Challenge

In a few months, I will take the hand of Mr. A and not release it until either of us passes to the great beyond.

And that calls for a party!

I've heard that wedding planning is a minefield. Vendors jack up the price the second you say "family dinner on a Saturday" and everyone seems to have an opinion about what you should and shouldn't do, serve, write, stay, wear.

Fortunately, I'm used to pretending to carefully listen to opinions I don't agree with and then totally disregarding them. Growing up with a dad who has a drastically different political persuasion from my own has been perfect training. ;)

And fortunately, by now I'd consider myself a fairly experienced asker in the retail and service realms.

With this in mind, here I am going to outline a new project.

The Wedding Asking Challenge

1. Mr A and I will make a list of priorities and we will plan the wedding so those are met.  (DONE)

2. Mr. A and I will make a budget and do our best to adhere to it. (DONE)

3. I will try to negotiate every single item on that budget list, from wedding dress to ceremony music. Either I will bring down the dollar value or build more value into goods and services where the price stays the same.

4. I will make exceptions for vendors who are providing exceptional value. The point is not to extract money just because, but to get a non-inflated, non-wedding price for goods and services.

5. Every dollar that falls below the budgeted amount will go into an investment account which we'll use for a house down payment or another similar goal.

6. Along the way, I'll voice record some interactions and save all emails, so anyone planning a wedding (or similar endeavor) in the future can benefit from my experiences.

Ready? Set? GO!

[image credit]