Not to be confused with the Military Industrial Complex, although one could be forgiven for confusing the two. For about a year, I have had a second row seat to the planning and implementation of the Wedding of the Century. It has been fascinating in an appalling, watching-a-train-wreck sort of way. I should not be surprised by anything I hear, yet I continue to be.
The Prelude: The proposal in a boat, on a lake, with his-and-her families (sworn to super secrecy so as to be able to surprise the bride-to-be) gathered to watch on the shore.
The Ring: OK, no snarkiness here. It is a family heirloom.
Destination shower, destination bachelorette party, destination wedding. And lest anyone balks at travelling the distance for just the ceremony, the beach barbecue the day before, and the swanky wedding reception and dinner with band and booze.
Eleven bridesmaids (and presumably eleven groomsmen), not counting the new-to-me entity of the “Junior Maid-of-Honour” (and yes, there is also a senior Maid-of-Honour).
The $3000 dress … although I acknowledge that in this world of Say Yes to the Dress, it is probably a very low price for the Dress of the Century. I still think the required alterations ($500) should be included in the cost of the dress.
The Veil, at $1500. MOB showed me the picture, and I remarked astutely, “It’s a wedding veil.” “It has hand-made lace,” she said. I looked for it, and finally spotted the 6″ wide border of lace. Well, of course it has hand-made lace, because why else would anyone pay $1500 for a few yards of netting?
The Wedding Planner. I’m going to assume it was NOT her fault that the invitation to the destination bridal shower arrived two days before the event . . . .
The other (many) Invitations, including the announcement several months beforehand to prepare guests for the official wedding invitation. I’ve never received one of those before, so I learned something new.
Someone cleverer than me said this, and perhaps it is as true as anything else:
The way we marry is who we are.