I wanted to post this yesterday, but I had no internet. Time Warner Cable had yet again misunderstood my attempt to pay them, and sternly cut me off, so that I would learn my lesson. I did. Lesson: Time Warner Cable is bad.
So my amazing friend Emily is here from California to help me with wedding planning. Other than telling me about how much better CA is than everywhere else in the world (which all people who live there are obligated to do. They sign a contract that requires them to constantly use phrases like, “Hmm. Rain. This reminds me of how much better the weather is in California!”), she’s been totally supportive of me getting married here in Manhattan. We’re running all over the city.
Yesterday I tried on some bridal lingerie. It had a little fake diamond buried in sprigs of lace. There may have been pink ribbons. It didn’t fit, which was kind of a relief. When we were telling my fiancé about the day and we mentioned the lingerie, he said, “What’s it for? Is there some special purpose?”
We thought about it. I said, “I think maybe to seduce you.”
“Oh.” He seemed uncertain about how he was supposed to react to that.
I think I’m going to look for something that will prevent me from flashing all of the guests when I raise my arms without being simultaneously covered in satin bows and definitely without the words “I’m the bride!” bedazzled in pale pink plastic stones on the back.
Anyway, all this preparing for the wedding has made me think a lot about how weddings are done, and I’ve come to the following conclusion:
Weddings are all about women.
(click here for image source)
My mother comes into the city every week and we work on wedding plans. I take my friends out to help me choose various things from various vendors. A wedding is a tiny world of women planning, fussing, gathering, and supporting one another. Which is not to say that this is everyone’s experience. There’s probably someone out there who planned a wedding with her professional football player fiancé and the whole team chipped in. What? Football’s been around a while! There are a lot of people in the world! That could’ve happened!
But for me, and I get the feeling for many other women, planning a wedding is all about working with other women.
My dad shakes his head and says something about City Hall. My brother keeps asking if he can wear a yellow tux. I don’t know why. My one good guy friend hasn’t asked about wedding planning to date. My casual guy friends definitely haven’t asked. The only man I’ve met with for the wedding so far is a sort of eccentric Russian florist. And the guy who does the lights at the venue. Roberto. He’s very nice.
My fiancé’s mother wants to know how far along we are with the planning. We video chat with her on the weekend. She’s in California, Land of Beautiful People and Exquisite Happiness, and after we say hi and make sure everyone’s still alright, we dive into wedding talk. My first phone conversation with his stepmother was about our wedding. She’s coordinating the rehearsal dinner. My mom is involved on a daily basis. My local women friends have all done something wedding related with me. And Emily is staying here in the city with me for the sole purpose of wedding preperations.
As stressful as it’s supposed to be, and sometimes is, there’s something kind of lovely about the community of women that emerges through planning a wedding. I can’t help but think that I’ll be a little sad after we’re married, when there isn’t an easy topic for everyone to congregate around. Which does not in any way motivate me to get pregnant, by the way. But I’m just saying. It’s a little bittersweet.
I mean, the truth is, they are there anyway. And they will be there. And after my wedding, I’ll just have to get more creative about bringing them consistently into my life. I’ve already got a conversation tactic worked out for when I call his mother.
“Hi! How are you? I’m good, but it’s raining. So….How’s the weather there?”
* * * *
Anyone want to argue, as my fiance did, that weddings are about fiances? My response to this was that if planning a wedding is a game of chess, then the fiance is the king. It wouldn’t be happening without him. But he doesn’t really do that much.
Un-Roast: Today I love the way my pinky toes curl in. They look snuggly. What about you?
AnnaD says: “today I was reminded that I have great legs. I had just gotten to work, after the mile-walk through the woods (yes, really) and was changing my shoes. In doing so I pulled up the bottom of my pants legs and noticed that my calves looked really good! I have strong legs and once had them described as ‘very shapely’. I’ve also received a ‘damn, your legs look good!’ as someone was walking up stairs behind me.”
Rachel says: “I dyed my hair back to its original color, and am loving how strikingly dark that color is.”
Sandy: “I’m really feeling my energy right through my body today, love it!”
Diane says: “I like my hands, especially my fingers. They’re not particularly long, but they are slender and delicate. They feel capable and feminine at the same time.”
Amy says: “I think these are supposed to be more body-image related, but I can’t go there yet. Ummm… I like that my students often really love having me as a teacher, mentor and friend. I must be doing something right!”
notcoffee says: “I love my legs for the first time in my life. I do manual labor for a living and never appreciated just how much work they really do. They’re fierce and could easily kick a hole through drywall. In sum – legs, we’re no longer enemies. Thanks for doing that thing you do.”
P.S. Check out my piece about interfaith families in the Huffington Post, if you’re interested.
Note: Ever notice how the main character is almost always white? Like in the picture in this post. She has a black bridesmaid and an asian bridesmaid, proving that the people coordinating the shoot are definitely inclusive and urbane, but the bride is of course blond and white. Oh well.
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