Category Archives: Weddings

The Delightful Despair of Bridesmaid Dresses

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Let’s be honest, world. At this point, I’m only on Facebook to look at your wedding albums. Ex-boyfriend, I don’t care about your band’s latest gig. Eleventh grade English teacher, your newest grandchild is cute and all, but…I’m in it for the cakes and dresses.

You may call it wedding lust, if you like, but I know what it truly is: schadenfreude. Y’all, I love a pretty dress more than anyone and beautiful flowers never fail to make me smile, but – seriously – horrid weddings are my jam. I want to see the camouflage cakes and 76ers dresses. I want awkward family toasts and ill-fated bridal party dance routines. Even more, I want to see your poor, beleaguered bridesmaids. Nothing shows a bride’s true colors like the frock she forces upon her nearest and dearest. We think everyone will choose a pretty and universally flattering dress, but it is not so. And that, my dears, is where the fun begins.

Bridal Species (as classified by bridesmaid dresses):

The Trendy Bride – defining characteristics: extravagant ruffles, asymmetrical hemlines, and Tangerine Tango – Oh, darling, we know you’re into fashion. You have the latest it-bag and truly believe it, when Cosmo tells you that leopard print is a neutral. Unfortunately, your bridesmaid dresses reflect the dark side of your passion. You fell in love with that Spring 2012 dress from the Hot New Designer. You picked the color based on Pantone forecasts. As a result, your poor best friends are now decked out in orange ruffled, racer-backed monstrosities. When you look back in six months, not to mention sixty years, you will blush. Nobody outside of Madrid looks good in “Flamenco chic,” even if it is so in right now.

The Delusional Bride – defining characteristic: refusal to acknowledge that bridesmaids are not runway models – You have a dream, dearest, and you go for it. Sure, your maid of honor is eight months pregnant and your sister is a gorgeously curvy siren, but your plans for metallic sheath dresses will not be daunted! As a result, most of your wedding party looks like dreadfully uncomfortable Oscar statues. Don’t you want people to be happy and dance and eat cake? No? Oh, well good, because girlfriend can’t break out her best moves, when she’s wearing three pairs of Spanx and a strapless bra.

The Bride de Sade- defining characteristics: colors normally sported by fungi, four-inch “bridesmaid gift” heels, and an alarming glint in her eyes – This is your day. Yours, no one else’s! But what if someone’s eye strays to your bridesmaids for just one second? Luckily, you have a solution: brown. Not some nice chocolate brown, either. You, you lovely scalawag, have chosen Ace Bandage Brown. Sure, the tag may say “Caramel Latte,” but no one is going to look like a foam-topped Starbucks confection. Be they blonde or redhead, your bridesmaids resemble terminal disease patients, while you glow like a radiant butterfly. Well played, Machiaveilli.

The Seasonally Inappropriate Bride – defining characteristics: pink chiffon dresses and blue-nosed bridal party – Ever since you were a wee little bride-hopeful, you dreamed of your perfect June wedding. Bees would buzz lazily, flowers would drip from your outdoor alter, and your maids would line up in short, flirty little sundresses. Unfortunately, scheduling has demanded you marry in January. In Minnesota. Never fear! It’s still your day, so when you insist on short, chiffon halter dresses and fun wedges, your friends must comply! They can just throw on a wrap, right? The rest of us, however, will be taking bets on which one loses the most external bits from hypothermia. (My vote: always the little one. Her lack of body mass will be your cab fare home!)

The Theme Bride – defining characteristics: cowboy hats, fairy wings, and/or clothing usually seen in 14th century tapestries – You are a unique bride, a snowflake special among special snowflakes. Naturally, you want to show that in your wedding. I get it! Weddings should definitely be personal to the bride and groom. It’s just, when I said personal, I didn’t mean you should deck your girls out in Star Trek uniforms. But, run with it, if you must. Of course, your friends want to dress as their favorite Care Bear. (Dibs on Funshine Bear!) Oh – or better yet! – in period-appropriate Victorian costumes. Nothing says “Bridesmaid to Flirt With” like a whale-bone corset.

Be warned, prospective brides. That old saying is true – karma is not only a bitch, but also a vengeful bridesmaid. If you torture your friends too much, you may end up in a pale yellow, tea-length bandage dress. That’s not a look you want posted to Facebook, however much I may enjoy cackling at the pictures.

- Grace

The Girl Who Would Be Bridezilla

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Last Monday was the best day ever. No, I didn’t marry Stanley Tucci or get offered a role in the Newsies musical. It was – almost – better. At 8:30am, my cell phone rang and a very lovely author informed me that I’d been nominated for a Very Important Publishing Award. Cue swoon.

Me! A leg lamp writing award! In four months time, this very spinster will be flying off to California to attend a fancy publishing conference and a black tie awards ceremony. It’s like the Oscars! With more carpal tunnel sufferers!

Of course, being the ridiculous person I am, my thoughts immediately turned to one thing: the dress. There is an old saying my mother taught me: When one gives an acceptance speech to 3000 people, one must look super fly. The chances of me winning are slim, but a good former Girl Scout must be prepared. No one remembers The Girl Whose Dress Was Not On Fire. In that vein, I spent the past week looking for a gown.

That’s a lie. Not looking, but obsessively searching. For seven solid days, I did nothing on the internet but look at evening gowns. If you are going to a black tie function soon, tell me what you want to wear, because I have seen ALL THE DRESSES. No department store lay unchecked, no designer unscanned. I called Kate not once, but three times, for hour-long dress powwows. Finally, after talking myself out of a Marchesa and a Carmen Marc Valvo, I tracked down the perfect dress. Grecian-inspired, emerald green, and on sale!

A question bears asking, I know. Why was I in such a frenzy, when the awards aren’t until late July? Because I am totally nuts, friends. I like to call myself enthusiastic, but – let’s be honest – the word is obsessive, Grace. When I embark on something, be it a new hobby or a gown search, it becomes an all-consuming quest. I must be the best sewist, own every rare Nancy Drew edition, and track down the one gown that will make my wildest dreams come true. The quest is all I think about. If I hadn’t bought that damn gown, the next four months would be spent doing nothing but comparing this color green to another. That way madness lies! I have a deadline coming up and dress shopping is not an excuse my agent will accept.

This bodes poorly for my future. If I ever become a bride, watch out. It better be a short engagement, so I don’t lose whole years of my life to flower arrangements. I’ve always thought planning a wedding would be easy, because I know exactly what I want, but that may be the problem. Knowing what I want leads me to set up complicated Ebay alerts, just in case the perfect pair of Frye riding boots appear in my size (Dorado riding, Bordeaux, 9.5). No matter that I have four other pairs in my closet already – they’re just stand-ins for the real prize. Can you imagine what picking out a wedding dress would be like? Those poor people at Say Yes to the Dress (Atlanta, obviously) would explode from frustration.

Y’all are so lucky you only know me on the internet. Kate and Mae are probably praying that I never meet Mr. Right, if only so they’re spared the experience of being my bridesmaids. My name is Grace and I’m a future bridezilla. It’s lucky this blog is anonymous, don’t you think, poor unsuspecting male population?

- Grace

P.S. I’m currently on a quest for The Perfect Gold Belt for the gown: thin, braided, double wrap. Any leads can be sent to ConfederacyOfSpinsters (at) gmail.com

The Bride and Groom Have Never Kissed.

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VE-Day Kiss

The other day, my sister was telling me about her friend who is getting married, which is nice but unremarkable and I was a little bored with the story, until she said this, “It’s really crazy because they haven’t even kissed!” I listened in complete and total shock as she told me over and over  (I needed her to repeat it like 10 times) that the bride and groom to be had never ever kissed each other.

Ummm…what?

I don’t get it, friends. I really don’t. When pressed for an explanation, my sister’s friend mumbled something about it being more special that way and then something about God. My response to the first explanation is, how much more special do you want a first kiss to be? The first kiss is always special because it’s a first kiss. That’s like adding icing to icing- it was already delicious, no need to overindulge. And as to her second explanation, which was really more of an aside/whisper, all I know is that to the best of my knowledge, people who are lapsed Protestants at best are totally allowed to kiss. But, I’m not a theologian and I’m not trying to be.  If they decide as a couple that their spirituality is best served by not kissing before marriage, that’s okie-dokie. I’m just not sure how much they thought about the kind of pressure this adds to a day that is already a giant mass of stress and worry.

Weddings are stressful, y’all. I’ve been a guest, bridesmaid, and maid of honor for countless weddings and I can only think of one out of all of those that felt easy breezy. Every other wedding had at least one person (usually the bride) all a-tizzy with anxiety over how smoothly everything was going. I just cannot imagine adding something as monumental as a first kiss to all that. First kisses are completely awesome; they are also frequently completely awkward. It’s a lot of butterflies and trying to figure out if you’re kissing them they way they like to be kissed, or if they’re kissing you the way you like to be kissed. It’s like your first day at Hogwarts- overwhelmingly exciting, but you might also get lost after a staircase moves.

But maybe this couple is ok with the added pressure. Maybe they are completely zen and can handle it without causing stress acne and nausea. Good on them. I’m impressed. However, I have one other question, do they realize they will be sharing their first kiss in front of their parents? Not to mention their grandparents, siblings, cousins, friends, and assorted other guests? Do you really want an audience for your first kiss? What if it’s sloppy? What if you get a bit carried away, because of all the pent up sexual frustration? What if it looks weird? I, for one, plan on kissing my husband-to-be as much as possible before our wedding and will probably make him practice kissing me in front of a mirror so I can make sure it looks good. I mean, people will be photographing this for Zeus’ sake! And while the idea of capturing your first kiss on film may sound sweet and romantic, I think it’s quite lucky that it doesn’t happen often, because we might all stop kissing one another because of how weird our first kisses looked.

Obviously, I kept all of these feelings to myself (and you), because it’s her and her fiance’s choice and really none of my business. If she wants to add pressure and awkwardness to her wedding then so be it- she is the bride after all. And hey, I hope their first kiss/wedding kiss is everything they hoped it would be. I hope it’s fireworks, and romance, and sweetness, and flawlessness all wrapped up in a perfect bow and set atop a unicorn’s back. I really do hope that. I just think it’s a hell of a big moment to throw on top of another even bigger moment. Me, I like to spread my big moments out.

- Mae

The Unbearable Lightness of Penis Cake

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Warning: This post contains sixteen utterances of or euphemisms for penis. If reading this at work, we suggest making the font a little smaller.

As any romantic comedy will tell you, weddings are filled with Rules. There are the big ones, which a wedding-wise girl can recite by heart: Don’t wear white to a wedding, always R.S.V.P before the deadline, and never violate Kate’s dibs on the cute groomsman. Even the pre-ceremony events have their own traditions. Each lingerie shower or engagement tea has an etiquette to follow. For bachelorette parties, there is but one rule: don’t be a party pooper.

Ostensibly, this is easy to follow. It’s one last hurrah for your almost-married friend. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh, my brave little toasters, just you wait. You are about to be exposed to more edible massage oils and That’s what she said! jokes than you thought possible. By the end of the night, the word “penis” will have lost all meaning, so often have you heard it. Unwanted knowledge of the groom’s left-leaning tendencies will haunt you for days. However, one horror stands above the rest. Like T-Rex among tiny, squashable raptors, The Baked Phallus looms large on the horizon of bachelorette parties.

That’s right. Someone will bring a cake shaped like a one-eyed trouser snake. Betty Cocker will have raided an adult novelty store for the pan (this being the one socially-acceptable time for  a young woman to enter one, as long as she giggles nervously throughout the visit, so everyone knows she does not approve), debated the potential connotations of chocolate and vanilla cake mixes, and then painstakingly measured food coloring for that perfect curdled flesh color. At the party, this gateau de schlong will be left in a place of honor, for all to see. Nothing says Have a Happy Marriage! like baked genitalia.

Your initial cake reaction is pivotal, friends. Whether you are shocked or delighted will determine your bachelorette party role. Play this carefully. There are generally three party archetypes: the all-knowing siren, the begrudgingly amused bystander, and the horrified prude. Much like the first time you played truth-or-dare in middle school, try to avoid the prude option. You’ll be safer, if you play it cool. Just like in the good old days of seventh grade, this hen night can quickly devolve into a game of Shock Naive Nellie. I recommend grabbing a glass of champagne and acting like Black Forest Cock is an everyday treat at your abode.

Personally, I find the whole penis obsession ridiculous. If we’re not eating phallus cake, we’re wearing light-up tallywhackers around our necks. It’s like the twisted version of my childhood birthday parties. Only, instead of a Barbie lip gloss in the goodie bag, it’s a lollicock.

The psychology of this is befuddling, at best. Are we supposed to be preparing a supposedly virgin bride for her first glimpse of the manhood? A human sexuality textbook seems wiser. I don’t trust the anatomical accuracy of buttercream icing. Besides, most brides I know are wise in the ways of whoopee. What could they possibly gain from a giant, fondant-covered model of their man’s junk? It’s not exactly the most appetizing shape. A heart-shaped confection seems much more conducive to celebrating impending marriage and staving off the gag reflex.

Unfortunately, the ultimate rule of bachelorette parties still applies: don’t rain on the parade, no matter how penis-laden the floats are. If the bride wants to drink through a dinglehopper straw and stuff her face with sausage sandwiches, that is her right. I plan on banning any phallic pastries from my own bachelorette festivities, but to each her own. If Future Kate or Mae decides she must have a penis cake, I’ll even bake the damned thing myself. Just know this: it will be from scratch. If one has to eat cock cake, it should at least have homemade icing.

- Grace

Bridal Showers: Oh My God, It’s A Fork!

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As a well-liked girl in my mid-twenties, in possession of all my teeth and the requisite little black dress, I attend a lot of weddings. The damned things are unavoidable. Second cousins, friends from college, and my next-door neighbors are all determined to have me drink champagne and throw rice at them. This is fine. I love a good wedding! Who doesn’t enjoy watching well-dressed people pledge their eternal love and dance awkwardly? Plus, there’s cake. I have no arguments with people feeding me cake. (Which, incidentally should be white with white icing. If you decide to forgo this old standard in favor of cake balls or pie or - horror! – an ice cream sundae bar, I will not-so-silently judge you for all eternity.)

Unfortunately, sometimes one of your closest friends decides to don the veil. This means one thing, kittens: you will attend her bridal shower. I know. It sucks. Don’t worry, it happens to everyone. This past weekend, I myself even fell victim to one of these quiche-ridden events. We will get through this together.

The Bridal Shower, A Primer. What horrors await you and how to survive them sanely.

  1. Small Talk With Your Elders. While some of your friends will surely undergo this shower with you, most of the attendees will be friends of the bride’s mother. If your friend’s mum is a former trapeze artist turned roller derby queen, you’re in luck. Her friends will be awesome. They will regale you with stories of their lion hunts in Africa and that time they made out with David Cassidy backstage at the Grammys. If she’s a suburban mom with highlights and a BMW, prepare yourself. You will be asked: what you do for a living, if you’re married, if you think what you do for a living is keeping you from marriage, and if you know that fertility drops sharply after 30. In my experience, it’s best to lie. Lie like a rug, my darling chickpeas. It’s not that you’re single, it’s that you just got out of a bad relationship. (No need to elaborate that said relationship was with your old iPod. Those click wheels are so finicky!) If you’re happily in a relationship, but not ready to get married? Let it slip that it’s not legal to get married in your state yet. The Man is so harsh on kissing cousins, yo! Your goal is to get these ladies moving on to someone else. You need to get some more champagne.
  2. There Will Not Be Food. Look, I know your friend is having this event catered. I know it’s noon on a Saturday, prime lunch hour. Logic would say that you’ll be fed. Don’t believe it! You’re going to need to grab some Chick-Fil-A beforehand, readers. What your friend, her mind clouded by an extreme pre-wedding diet, really means is there will be display food. It was chosen to be photogenic, not filling. A dozen mini-quiches on a bed of lettuce, a party tray of vegetables, and an artful tower of cucumber sandwiches – this is the fare of a bridal shower. If you’re lucky, there will be a bowl of crackers next to the Low-Cal Ranch Dip, with which you can stave off starvation. When groups of women attend social functions together, we like to pretend that we eat like birds. This is fucking ridiculous. Perhaps it’s unladylike, but I will always prefer a cheese-heavy fajita to a cup of pasta salad. Woman cannot watch brides unwrap bowls on carrots alone.
  3. There Will Be 1950s Undertones. We are well into the 21st century, but bridal showers exist in a time warp, my dears. Prepare to hear jokes about how long it took the groom to propose, how your friend must learn to cook, and how that apron she just opened will be great to don with heels & pearls while she vacuums. In the real world, most of these attendees are normal, awesome women. When a girl gets married, however, many feel the need to pass on ridiculous wisdom about maxing out her man’s credit cards and suffering in silence when the groom watches too much football. It’s best to just bite your tongue. No one wants to be that girl who was pepper-sprayed at the shower, after starting an argument about the gender breakdown of sports fans.
  4. You Will Play Soul-Crushing Games. Similar to elementary school holiday parties, you may find yourself called upon to do IQ-diminishing “fun” things. Expect to be wrapped head-to-toe in toilet paper by your fellow party-goers. This is meant to recreate the bride’s wedding dress! Charmin is so much hotter than Vera Weng, y’all. Alternately, there may be a quiz about the groom’s vital statistics. If you wrote that his nickname is TwinklyBooBooBear, you get a point! If you’re lucky, your hosts will pass around “Vow Sheets,” on which attendees can write their own vows for the bride & groom. Hooray! This is the time to make your minor grievances against either party known. Some popular choices are: I vow to stop making fun of your penis size to my friends! I promise not to be an asshole and cheat on you again with that girl from college! I swear to cut your ironic hipster mustache in the dead of night!
  5. Prepare To Be Amazed By A Fork. You use kitchenware everyday – pots, spoons, even plates. How different can bridal shower gifts be? Oh, just wait. When your dear friend opens up a crystal bowl she registered for, because one of the perks of getting married is choosing your own gifts, the room will erupt in squeals of joy rarely heard outside a Justin Bieber concert. Someone will remark on what a wonderful size it is, how hard to find! Someone else will enunciate the uses of such a magnificent specimen – you can put Christmas ornaments in it or pistachios! At some point, the bride will open a silverware setting. That setting will then be passed around, so everyone can properly appreciate it. When this happens, have something encouraging to say. I usually go with: Oh my God! It’s a fork! How wonderful! Said in a joyful manner, as if you’ve spent the last two-and-a-half decades twirling spaghetti with your fingers, this will seem befitting of your envious single status. One day, someone will assure you with a pat on the hand, you’ll deserve a fancy fork too.

Hopefully, this will help you in your time of need, lieblings. Arm yourself with champagne, a wide, manic smile, and diversionary small talk. You’ll survive. Just remember – grab something to eat first, because there will not be food.

- Grace