Hey, heterosexual ladies, the only people who matter when it comes to weddings! Gearing up for your big day this summer? Here’s a handy checklist of things essential to a great wedding day, to make sure everything is as perfect as possible or everything in your life will be meaningless.
Do you have … Keep reading »
Shortly after Patrick and I got engaged, my mom called with a request that was so cute, I didn’t know what to say: “The ladies at church want to throw you a bridal shower.”
The “ladies” in question were women who had watched me grow up in our small-town Methodist church, with whose daughters I attended countless birthday parties, bunked with at church camp and defied the chaperones at all-night lock-ins for Jesus.
I was touched. I hadn’t had a conversation with these women for years and yet they wanted to throw me a party. And not just any party. A presents party! Keep reading »
People on the internet have been telling me I’m fat for at least a decade — since whenever the first full-body photograph of me appeared on a blog author page. I still remember one of the first times it happened. I was probably 22 years old, wearing a pink pencil skirt and cute black top, retro-style, in the photo.
“Just like I thought, she’s pear-shaped,” snarked one commenter, who apparently previously inferred from the quality of my writing that my body was not up to his high expectations, only to have it all confirmed by a photo.
I stood in front of the mirror in that same outfit, staring at my body from every angle, trying to figure out just how pear-shaped I was. Was it my thighs causing the problem? Had to be, right? I measured them. I calculated my BMI. I took more digital photos and compared them to the existing photo. I went through the size tags on all my clothes, trying to find the biggest one so I could prove to myself that I either was or wasn’t fat. Definitively.
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You can read wedding magazines, and wedding blogs, and wedding everything, but you’ll almost never turn the page and see the marriage. Everything stops in a last, beautiful moment, blurred by sparklers or bubbles or birdseed as the (inevitably white, inevitably young, inevitably thin, inevitably straight) couple disappears into the back of a limousine, a horse-drawn carriage, or, if they’re very edgy, maybe a racy vintage sports car.
Having a wedding can be glamorous; certainly the Wedding Industrial Complex sells it that way. And being engaged is exciting. People send you pretty cards and congratulate you for being nothing more than very lucky. They ask you where they can go to buy you some presents so they can reward you for being in love. You are actively encouraged to brag about yourself. Everything builds up to the big day. Your perfect day! Your princess day!
And then … what? Keep reading »
When I let it slip to people that I sometimes regret taking my husband’s last name after we were married, a panicked look crosses their face. They’re expecting, I can only guess, a diatribe about a good-for-nothing bum of a husband. I’ll give you the good news now. We’re 12 years in and going strong.
It’s not the marriage I regret. It’s the name.
I never expected to be here. Twelve years ago, I was excited to dump my 10-letter mouthful of amaiden name for one that was half as long. I was ready to say goodbye to years of having to correct the spelling and the pronunciation of the very German name passed down through my father’s family for generations. Read more…
When Jamie Blanke married her new husband Eric Chandler, they did it in style — Disney style. The bride, who was raised by two Disney fanatics, really wanted to be Princess Ariel (you know, the mermaid from”A Little Mermaid”). But she didn’t stop at dyed red hair, a fish-netting veil and mermaid-style dress (all of which she had, natch). Oh no, Jamie enlisted all of her bridesmaids and groomsmen to dress as Disney characters, too. So now, these poor bridesmaids are stuck with the pinnacle of unwearable bridesmaids dresses — a Disney princess bridesmaid dress. I mean, I guess there’s always Halloween. [The Knot]
I mean, good on Jamie for doing what she wanted for her wedding. Still, I can’t help but feel that this pales a bit in comparison to… Keep reading »
In South Florida, one man’s romantic gesture to his wife has turned into a legal battle with the DMV and a moment to reflect on traditional gender roles. Keep reading »
The New York Times, ever concerned about the plight of the three people it takes to make a Style Section trend story, has identified a disturbing new tendency among women to … plan their weddings. But wait for it: they’re not just planning their weddings, they’re doing it on the Internet and they’re doing it while single.
The horrors, they are horrifying. Time to muster the judgment and disdain appropriate to the situation: these pathetic cases are wasting their sad-ass time, and their real human relationships are suffering for it, because using the Internet means shunning all human contact, only going outside once a week to get a gallon of milk and a bag of cat food. Keep reading »
“Are you going to grow your hair out for the wedding?”
Obviously my stylist needed to know, because she was standing there with scissors. But family members? Dress shop employees? After the hundredth time telling people “No,” it got a little tiresome.
The question, in and of itself, isn’t offensive or stupid. It’s probably just small talk. After all, it’s incredibly uncommon to see short-haired brides, especially represented in mainstream wedding-related media; it’s understandable why people ask.
But there are an awful lot of preconceived notions about weddings and femininity and the all-importantness of a one-day event packed into that deceptively innocent sentence. Keep reading »