June 20, 2014
Mazel Tov! As June rounds third base and looks towards home, we’re officially at the height of wedding season. A wedding, if you’re not familiar, is where you invite many, many guests to observe as you are legally and spiritually shackled to another human being, forever. You then throw a lavish party to thank your guests for attending, only the guests pretend the party is actually for you rather than acknowledging it as the payment they’re due for being asked to wear a suit outdoors during the hottest part of the day. They are truly magical things.
I love weddings as much as the next person. It’s rare that you’ll ever see two people that happy (if that doesn’t make you happy, you have a problem), and who doesn’t like a good, free party? Still, weddings inherently invite scorn and judgement, and no matter what you do, someone’s going to find something to bitch about. Here’s why every wedding you’ll attend this summer (including your own) is Literally the Worst:
The Theme: When did this become a thing? The theme of a wedding should be “wedding.”
The Venue: “Oh, we chose to have our wedding at one of Thomas Jefferson’s slave’s quarters, the last one in the country to be shuttered following the Civil War!” Wedding envy seems to require that couples choose absurdly, comically historic venues if they want to “keep up.” The wedding industry stays in business by convincing would-be brides that their wedding MUST be the most over the top thing in the world. The problem is, by the time a wedding is on the table, all of her childhood ideas have been taken and she has to push the envelope even further. By the time the Head Betches get married, I assume guests will be ferried to and from the venue on little platforms carried by servants. By the time North West is sold into matrimony (sometime in 2026, I guess?), the event won’t be good enough for tabloid fodder unless she has the reception on the fucking moon.
The Dresses: Goddamn, do women ever get fucked when it comes to dresses. Since most people have the decency to acknowledge room for personal taste in the bridal gown itself, they turn their ire elsewhere - the bridesmaids dresses. If you’re a bridesmaid, you have the pleasure of spending several hundred dollars on a dress you will NEVER wear again, ever. If you’re a bride, every catty woman in attendance will be saying things like “omg, that color,” or “what the fuck? Are they going to prom afterwards?” You cannot win. The guys get away with renting their shit, but it doesn’t help when the groom elects to wear the same exact thing as the groomsmen. Hey, buddy: It’s your day, too. Wear a real tuxedo, brotimes.
The Ceremony: Barring the observance of any religious traditions, a wedding ceremony should take, what, 10 minutes? 15 minutes? Just say your shit, kiss awkwardly and get out of there and let us start drinking. But nooooooo. Some people deign to write their own vows, which, God - is that ever not a disaster? I’ve been to weddings where there are, for no explained reason, breaks where someone pulls out a guitar and sings. It’s like being held hostage by street buskers. Wedding ceremonies should be how they are on Game of Thrones: You throw a blanket over the bride, and then we all go watch the two of you fuck.
The Food: The obvious and best way to go about feeding your wedding guests is to have things setup buffet-style. Some people (smart people) do this, but there are always those with reservations about how it’s not ehhhhlegant enough. Those people should die in a fire, but some couples kowtow and have the seated “banquet style” dinner, which is awful. Food is just not meant to be prepped in advance and served en masse like that. Your “risotto with haricots vert and wild mushrooms?” Wallpaper paste. The “breast of chicken with a balsamic demi-glace?” Like biting into a composition notebook. Does no one have the balls to just break down and have Chipotle cater their wedding, like a sensible person would?
The Booze: This is the only time in history when an otherwise staid Bud Light drinker will bitch about Chivas being the only scotch on offer, because people are terrible, selfish animals.
The Music: Oh, you got a band? Yay, an evening filled with music that only middle-aged white people enjoy dancing to! Unless you have Daft Punk up there, just hire a fucking DJ and let me do the Cupid Shuffle until my legs fall off.
I think that about covers it, but let me know of anything I missed in the comments. Have fun at weddings this weekend!
Head Pro really does enjoy weddings. Invite him to yours by emailing him at [email protected]. He’ll bring a gift.