lessons learned from a southern bridal show
Future Husband was really excited about the bridal show this past Sunday. Me? I was just glad we weren't on the couch watching his DVRed episodes of CSI and Law and Order again.
Personally, the bridal show was a helluva lot more fun when I wasn't engaged. I got to go around sans "Bride" sticker (like a bullseye to potential vendors, it might as well have said "Pasty!" or "Scam Me!") and eat all the free catered food I wanted, without having to listen to sales pitch after sales pitch and how everyone was there to make my day "more special".
What, my wedding day isn't special enough with me and FH there?
Anyway, I found a few vendors that I liked (especially a caterer, that is far out of my price range, but man, is their food excellent!). The almighty dollar, however, fuels my choices more than anything else. According to the ever-frugal FH, we can't afford much besides some stolen flowers and an ex-con to marry us.
Now that the reception is pretty much paid for and set, we're all about details.
I hate details.
I hate details almost as much as the $3,000 poufy white confections that they kept marching down the runway at the bridal show. I hate details almost as much as I hated (and, I'll admit, envied) the Scarletts-in-training that swanned about with their huge cushion-cut diamonds and their $400 casual tops-$200 jeans ensembles with their perfectly outfitted mummies. Daddies, of course, were not invited, as one does not have to see the merchandise one is paying for. I hate details like drying one's bouquet to put in a shadowbox afterwards, or having monogrammed chair cover ribbons, or matching one's place settings at the wedding to the ones in your home. I hate details almost as much as I hated the predatory, make-nice smiles that the vendors gave me while I passed by, and the size-ups as they looked at my non-designer duds.
Some of the more ritzy vendors 'forgot' to give me their cards as I passed by. Daddy's Girl with 3 carats on her size 2 fingers, however, was tackled.
Basically, I realized that:
Personally, the bridal show was a helluva lot more fun when I wasn't engaged. I got to go around sans "Bride" sticker (like a bullseye to potential vendors, it might as well have said "Pasty!" or "Scam Me!") and eat all the free catered food I wanted, without having to listen to sales pitch after sales pitch and how everyone was there to make my day "more special".
What, my wedding day isn't special enough with me and FH there?
Anyway, I found a few vendors that I liked (especially a caterer, that is far out of my price range, but man, is their food excellent!). The almighty dollar, however, fuels my choices more than anything else. According to the ever-frugal FH, we can't afford much besides some stolen flowers and an ex-con to marry us.
Now that the reception is pretty much paid for and set, we're all about details.
I hate details.
I hate details almost as much as the $3,000 poufy white confections that they kept marching down the runway at the bridal show. I hate details almost as much as I hated (and, I'll admit, envied) the Scarletts-in-training that swanned about with their huge cushion-cut diamonds and their $400 casual tops-$200 jeans ensembles with their perfectly outfitted mummies. Daddies, of course, were not invited, as one does not have to see the merchandise one is paying for. I hate details like drying one's bouquet to put in a shadowbox afterwards, or having monogrammed chair cover ribbons, or matching one's place settings at the wedding to the ones in your home. I hate details almost as much as I hated the predatory, make-nice smiles that the vendors gave me while I passed by, and the size-ups as they looked at my non-designer duds.
Some of the more ritzy vendors 'forgot' to give me their cards as I passed by. Daddy's Girl with 3 carats on her size 2 fingers, however, was tackled.
Basically, I realized that:
- Poor people don't belong at bridal shows.
- Black people will only be pursued by black vendors (why?)
- You more than get back your $4 entry fee in free eats.
- Caterers, Florists, Photographers, and Dressmakers are all in it for the money. Your wedding is a meal ticket.
- No matter what I choose, I will wish I had chosen differently.
- I don't know what the hell I'm doing and really need to get a wedding planner (which FH says is another thing we can't afford; I hope we can afford psychiatric care and a straitjacket afterwards).
- The Wedding TM is not about marriage anymore, it's about "Your speshul daayyyy".
Ah, wisdom.
And it only cost $4 and 2 little cups of shrimp and grits.
posted by Gina at 9:34 AM
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