Did you know the average wedding – key word here is average – costs almost thirty grand?
This means I was freaking genius when I started telling my daughter at a very early age that she didn’t want to have a big expensive wedding. (Note my daughter is not getting married. I’m just always planning ahead.)
My campaign started when she was four years old and got a Disney princess castle doll house. This castle was the scene of many weddings she “performed” between Prince Charming and all the various princess dolls. (Truly this Prince Charming had long-term commitment issues.) I saw these “nuptials” as an opportunity to subtly begin to discredit the concept of a real-life fairy-tale wedding.
As she got older and began watching shows like “Say Yes to the Dress” where brides gleefully spend exorbitant sums on wedding gowns, I dropped kicked subtle to the curb. This is when I began harping that spending what amounted to paying for a year of college on a dress was a sign of grievous stupidity. Furthermore her dad and I weren’t ever going to drop that much coin on an article of clothing.
When my daughter reached her teens and Instagram took over her life, I changed my focus. I began spinning a narrative about how it was silly to spend a lot of money on a wedding when the life event had been turned primarily into a photo op.
My suggestion was if the wedding is all about the pictures for social media then a couple should head to a gorgeous locale, invite a few people and go all in on photos of the bride and groom perched on an ocean vista.
The irony to all this is that I had a huge Texas wedding. But according to my mother it “didn’t cost very much.”
My mom did all the flowers. The wedding cakes were made by a friend of my mom’s as a “gift to the bride and groom.” The photographer was also a family friend and the catering was by a group of southern church ladies who brought the deliciousness. I even had a friend who gave us a, umm, unique ice sculpture of two dolphins kissing as a wedding present.
I remember joking with my mother during all the planning hullabaloo that I was having a wedding not an Amish barn raising. She gave me some serious side-eye and said, “It will be lovely.”
And it was but more importantly it didn’t break the bank. But I got married in the 80s and this was way before the wedding industrial complex was booming and the word “bridezilla” had yet to be created.
Today couples have allowed themselves to be seduced by social media that getting married requires a major investment in a dress, a cocktail hour before a sit-down dinner and enough photos taken to qualify as CIA level surveillance.
Indulge me as I pause for a moment for a quick sidebar on the photo palooza. After a few years you will barely look at your wedding photos. Sure, you’ll always cherish some beautiful pictures but thirty close ups of your wedding shoes and a robe that says “bride” are never going to hold much significance.
I recently texted my daughter a story on how idiot couples are going into loads of debt to have their “dream wedding.” She replied back, “I get it mom. Find something else to worry about.”
Maybe I will. I might even pat myself on the back for starting my daughter’s “less is best” wedding indoctrination at such an early age. But then that might jinx it. So, I think I’ll just continue worrying.
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Snarky in the Suburbs 