what’s all this?I'm Andrea, and this is my blog about figuring out how to get married.
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So that is what my Frisky column this week is about: how to keep the Wedding Crazy from taking over:
But for the last several days, I’ve had to force myself to occupy every moment of my time with some tangible project or activity, because during moments of stillness, the Wedding Crazy clinks on its hateful table lamp and is all, Oh HIIIIIIIIIIIII Andrea, did you forget to be worried about something for a second? Here, let me assist you. Of course I’m terribly excited about Saturday. I just wish it were here already so I wasn’t stuck always finding new wedding-related scabs to pick. Is the green on our wedding programs the right green!? I better check again! Or, Are we sure we put the smaller bathmat on the wedding registry? Because what if we put the big bathmat and it doesn’t fit? OH NIGHTMARE OF NIGHTMARES.
Read the rest here.
I can’t even believe I’m writing this blog entry because I have so much shit to do aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahghghghg.
For this week’s Hitched column at The Frisky, I write about how Patrick and I decided to have a co-bachelor/ette camping weekend in lieu of traditional, gender-divided bachelor/ette parties. It was awesome.
In the party family, bachelor/ette parties are closely related to New Year’s Eve: you go in with high expectations, and at the end of the night, if things haven’t been Epic with a Capital E, somehow the night is a failure. New Year’s Eve always ends with someone puking behind a gas station at 3 a.m. New Year’s Eve always ends with a desperate drunk text. New Year’s Eve always ends in disappointment, because New Year’s Eve can never be the thing it’s built up to be.
So we went camping instead. I didn’t have to feel conspicuous at the gay bar wearing a dick crown and a feather boa — celebrating marriage at a club geared toward a group of people who legally can’t in Texasmakes me feel deeply uncomfortable — and I also got to hang out with Patrick. I mean, I’m marrying the guy because I seriously prefer parties he’s at to parties he isn’t at. So it felt right.
Read the rest at The Frisky.
This week in my Hitched column for The Frisky: Our wedding venue fell through 20 days before our wedding.
I thought it was a hilarious April Fool’s joke when on Sunday, we met our day-of planner, Tracy, at our venue to walk through the whole evening and she was all, “By the way, did you know the entire swimming pool here has been dug up and it’s a construction site?”
Did I know fucking what?
Read the rest here.
Watch this woman at Slate be surprised that her wedding dress was an overpriced, factory-made garment that cost her $2,730, whereas industry experts she took the dress to said it should cost about $1,200 with parts + labor.
I’m kind of amazed she made it through the whole thing without once mentioning the Wedding Industrial Complex. The reasons she says her dress was so expensive were 1) “Most people suck at buying wedding dresses,” because we only ever do it once and we don’t know how to comparison shop and 2) Something about “signaling,” which is when you do the whole “Oh, but this is the big one-time, big-important, photo-op day.”
Which are true and good reasons, but I think 3) is obviously: there’s an entire industry that knows you’re 1) buying this once so you’ve never done it before and 2) constantly being told it’s the MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU WILL EVER OWN LAYDEEZ so it takes advantage of the shame-based economy built around people having their “perfect” day OR ELSE.
I mean, I’m glad this lady liked her wedding dress and got the one she really wanted, but I don’t have a lot of sympathy for someone who’s all “Oh golly! I am just downright kerfluffed that this lil’ ole’ dress cost so much!” You paid $2,730 for a factory-made dress. The reason it takes so long to get wedding dresses is because they make them overseas, and any wedding dress sales clerk will tell you that, usually when they’re chiding you for not coming in months earlier and forcing you to fork over even more money for a “rush” fee.
Of course this lady got ripped off–but not only in the way she thinks. She paid too much, sure, but if she’s also surprised she paid too much, she also got hoodwinked by the WIC. The fact that she says the dress designer refused to comment on the material or labor costs of the dress gives it away immediately: if we could hold the wedding industry to reasonable standards of openness and accountability, it’d be a lot harder for them to up-charge people just for buying a wedding-related item.
In this week’s Hitched column for The Frisky, I wonder whether wedding registries are even needed any more. I also get really fucking excited about the trampoline our wedding party bought us.
But I don’t think we can ignore the phenomenon of wedding presents in the era of the Wedding Industrial Complex. Very often, weddings are elaborate testaments to the extremes of consumer culture. They are the ultimate hand-fasting between materialism and deep cultural emotion. Buying stuff is a seminal part of the whole arrangement.
And it’s because today’s newlyweds often live together before marriage and no longer genuinely need a set of Teflon cookware, a microwave or sheets that I think the WIC has transformed the idea of wedding gift-giving. It used to be a helpful leg-up for a bride and groom building a new household; now it’s a kind of straight-up goods-and-services exchange. You give us a double boiler and we’ll buy your food and drink for one night.
Read the rest here.
This week in my Hitched column for The Frisky, I discover the wonders and horrors of premarital counseling, which in Texas is really, really recommended by the State, especially if you are a Christian person:
Is the point of “Twogether in Texas” to strengthen marriage, or is the point to shore up conservative Christian values and beliefs so that people who share those beliefs reap governmental benefits more easily than those who don’t?
In practice, it really feels like the latter — especially since the sponsor of the “Twogether in Texas” bill is one Warren Chisum, a champion of conservatism and anti-gay rights in my fair state. In fact, he’s been called our “most powerful fundamentalist.” In Texas, that’s really, really saying something.
Read the rest here.