Many years ago, way, way back around the time when I was just starting this blog, I read this article in New York Magazine by Ariel Levy. Over the last couple weeks, memory of this article has resurfaced in my mind, and by some miracle I managed--over 7 years later--to remember not only the author's name, but also whole chunks of the article itself. Given that I had to think really, really hard to recall the name of one of my roommates from the same time period, the article must have made an impression on me.
In a nutshell, Levy writes about her decisions to a) have a wedding, despite her misgivings and b) wear a dress to said wedding that was not white. At the time I first read the article, I was: a) single, b) very single and c) nowhere close to planning a wedding. Nevertheless, her travails must have resonated with me pretty deeply. And now, I'm a) planning a wedding, despite my misgivings and b) trying to figure out how to wear a not-white dress to said wedding. So the resonance is ringing loud and clear. My past-self was prescient.
Truth talk: I've never really wanted a wedding.* In fact, up until a couple weeks ago, when my mother insisted that there would be some kind of party to celebrate my upcoming marriage, I was pretty set against having one. Eloping always seemed like the best possible option for everyone involved. I wouldn't have to find a dress, the groom wouldn't have to buy a suit, my friends wouldn't have to travel or buy presents, and my parents wouldn't have to pay for a single thing. As it turns out, the groom wanted to buy a suit, my parents were happy to pay for stuff and all my friends insisted that they wanted to be there. I caved.
My wedding is in 101 days. And thus, I must find something to wear. My problem is: I've never been to a wedding where the bride didn't wear a white dress, and I've never wanted to wear a white dress to any event, much less my own wedding. I'm not just trying to buck tradition here, either--I'm a very, very pale person and white does nothing for me.** I don't really have any precedent to work from, however, except for Ariel Levy.
Her solution only goes so far, though, because in her case, she bought a a crazy-expensive Carolina Herrera gown for her wedding, a wedding which she refers to as a "party about love." On both of these counts--what she wore, and how she referred to her wedding--I am in utter disagreement. I do not want a gown, I do not want to spend a fortune and I do not want to refer to anything as a party about love (unless it's a joke about swingers). So on this score, the article can only get me so far.
No wedding shop can do anything for me either--they sell colorful dresses, of course, but they are bridesmaids dresses, which I've found really look like bridesmaid dresses, even when they are not on a woman standing next to a woman wearing white. I do not want to look like a bridesmaid, but I don't really want to look like a bride, either. I want to look like myself, but a version of myself that is wearing a pretty dress and looks awesome. Is this too much to ask?
And this is why I never wanted to have a wedding. They make otherwise sane people go crazy.
*This does not mean I never wanted to get married, of course. (Just in case the groom is reading this and has become worried.)
**It has occurred to me that a tanning salon could be the answer I've been looking for, but does it seem wise to risk cancer just to fit the color scheme?
In a nutshell, Levy writes about her decisions to a) have a wedding, despite her misgivings and b) wear a dress to said wedding that was not white. At the time I first read the article, I was: a) single, b) very single and c) nowhere close to planning a wedding. Nevertheless, her travails must have resonated with me pretty deeply. And now, I'm a) planning a wedding, despite my misgivings and b) trying to figure out how to wear a not-white dress to said wedding. So the resonance is ringing loud and clear. My past-self was prescient.
Truth talk: I've never really wanted a wedding.* In fact, up until a couple weeks ago, when my mother insisted that there would be some kind of party to celebrate my upcoming marriage, I was pretty set against having one. Eloping always seemed like the best possible option for everyone involved. I wouldn't have to find a dress, the groom wouldn't have to buy a suit, my friends wouldn't have to travel or buy presents, and my parents wouldn't have to pay for a single thing. As it turns out, the groom wanted to buy a suit, my parents were happy to pay for stuff and all my friends insisted that they wanted to be there. I caved.
My wedding is in 101 days. And thus, I must find something to wear. My problem is: I've never been to a wedding where the bride didn't wear a white dress, and I've never wanted to wear a white dress to any event, much less my own wedding. I'm not just trying to buck tradition here, either--I'm a very, very pale person and white does nothing for me.** I don't really have any precedent to work from, however, except for Ariel Levy.
Her solution only goes so far, though, because in her case, she bought a a crazy-expensive Carolina Herrera gown for her wedding, a wedding which she refers to as a "party about love." On both of these counts--what she wore, and how she referred to her wedding--I am in utter disagreement. I do not want a gown, I do not want to spend a fortune and I do not want to refer to anything as a party about love (unless it's a joke about swingers). So on this score, the article can only get me so far.
No wedding shop can do anything for me either--they sell colorful dresses, of course, but they are bridesmaids dresses, which I've found really look like bridesmaid dresses, even when they are not on a woman standing next to a woman wearing white. I do not want to look like a bridesmaid, but I don't really want to look like a bride, either. I want to look like myself, but a version of myself that is wearing a pretty dress and looks awesome. Is this too much to ask?
And this is why I never wanted to have a wedding. They make otherwise sane people go crazy.
*This does not mean I never wanted to get married, of course. (Just in case the groom is reading this and has become worried.)
**It has occurred to me that a tanning salon could be the answer I've been looking for, but does it seem wise to risk cancer just to fit the color scheme?
3 comments:
I love this. I really wanted not to wear a white dress, but Francisco wanted me to wear a white one. The afternoon after marriage counseling, I was full of conciliatory feeling and insisted we go wedding dress shopping together right then. At Nordstrom. Where I bought a dress. And so we were both happy--I got a gown that wasn't really a wedding dress; and he was happy because it was white. All that said, I think Nordstrom has pretty, not white, nice dresses, too. And they're expensive, but not too expensive for a wedding:)
Ha, I like that story about you and Francisco! And it seems like you both got what you wanted; I remember that your wedding dress was white, but not really a wedding dress. So the lesson is that I should go to Nordstrom (or someplace like it) and just get something I like, right? Josh professes not to care whether I wear white, so I could even take him with me. That would certainly shorten the shopping process--he gets bored after 10 mins.
Modcloth has fun dresses that are pretty cheap. They are not well made, but it's only for one day.
Just buy a fun dress that you would want for a party, but wouldn't otherwise justify buying!
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