A Post In Which I Judge
A princess must have her domain- the view from Prague Castle
Before we got engaged, I would sit up on my high horse and look at all the ladies on Say Yes To The Dress or Bridezillas and say “I would NEVER be like that!”
I just knew I would be the perfect picture of calm and elegant composure once it was my chance at bat. No tantrums or fits for me.
There are a couple tropes in the classic wedding story that I find really, really irritating- and you’ll most often see them played out on the aforementioned TLC specials. It’s why I made my sister promise that she’d smack me if she ever heard me utter the following phrases:
#1: “My special day.” It’s a phrase that is on par with wifey, hubby, om nom nom nom, and bae as combinations of letters that make me want to puke. Turns out, vendors LOVE to write this in emails to you- “We’d love to be a part of your special day!” “We can’t wait to talk more about your plans for your special day!” I guess there aren’t too many synonyms for weddings- although if they said, “We look forward to discussing your upcoming nuptial rites,” I’d be very down to hire them immediately.
#2: “I’m a princess.” Do I envy Kate Middleton’s glossy hair and 0% body fat? Of course, I’m a human woman. But I’ll never cease to be amazed by the number of GROWN ADULT ladies who reference Cinderella in regards to their wedding. Do I want to be an indentured servant that gets a lucky break with a leased pumpkin vehicle and a pair of shoes that give a whole new meaning to uncomfortable? No thanks. Bitch couldn’t even wear Dr. Scholes, because you’d be able to see them.
#3: “Do you have a tiara section?” Oy vey. Now, I LOVE headpieces. The sparklier, the better. And in fact, when my sisters and I were kids, my parents plied us with tiaras from a weird Polish religious paraphernalia store (that, for some reason, also sold tiaras) to keep us happy during a summer entirely spent cleaning out my great aunt’s home after she died. But I was like, 9. A tiara has no place on an adult’s head. It says, “Miss America,” “Prom,” or “Russian,” and that’s pretty much it. Even Cinderella had the class to save the tiara until she became a bonafide princess, and rocked a tasteful headband until that point.
I get the princess thing to an extent- everyone wants to be pampered and taken care of- and for us normal people, weddings are the only time you get to dress up and throw a ball in your own honor. But I don’t think that a princess is the best role model for this event. There are a lot of other options that we can use as allegorical figures for our weddings: “I’m Oprah and it’s my Legends Ball.” “I’m Sheryl Sandberg and I’m leaning in for my wedding.” “I’m Beyonce and I woke up like this (in a wedding dress).”
This whole post has been written from a pretty high horse- but rest assured- I am only being critical because I do recognize these impulses in myself as I get closer to the wedding. I get sulky when Nick tries to inject some reality into my perhaps too-ambitious plans. I have regular meltdowns about time constraints and decorations. I have my ugly moments. Hell, I ate half a bag of chocolate chips just WRITING about being stressed about wedding stuff. I try to mostly keep these ugly moments private, and I think so far, I’m doing ok. People who converse with me casually about wedding stuff might even think I’m a pretty relaxed bride (maybe? kind of?).
But somewhere, perhaps in a back room at Kleinfelds, there is a portrait of me that has been slowly changing. What started as a fresh-faced and friendly portrait of a hopeful girl has now, most certainly, grown to depict a crazy-eyed young woman with a “Bride” sash, French tips, and a plastic tiara with a veil attached.
Because I’m a princess. And it’s my special day.