Weddings

Dagny’s Entry [September 28, 2009]

Why the hell do people have weddings?

I just read about Khloe Kardashian and Lamar Odom’s nuptials.  Look, I’m all about romance and love — I’m not a killer of the blue bird of happiness — but seriously, folks.  Seriously? These two represent everything that is so completely wrong with modern weddings and marriage.

I should say from the outset that I’ve been married three times.  Yes, you read that right.  Three times.  The first two marriages were legal bonds of matrimony, which each lasted approximately three years.  The third marriage was a relationship that was never legally recognized by the state, but was probably more of a true marriage than the previous two combined.  In any case, it’s not that I’m knocking marriage, it just doesn’t seem to work well for me, personally.  Now, you might be part of the “hope springs eternal” group who is thinking “Awww, you just haven’t found the right person to marry!”  Yeah, well, I’m not getting any younger and the odds of finding someone who will accept the fact that I hate cooking and cleaning, and that I don’t “live well with others” is slim and none, and slim just left for a pack of smokes.  But that is neither here nor there.

Marriage isn’t easy, folks.  In fact it’s nearly impossible when you look at what you actually have to do in order to join your life with someone else’s.  But what we have been sold a really pretty package.  Think about it.  Girls are told all of the fairy tales that always end with the poor little beauty [who has endured a multitude of trials and hardships] walking into the sunset with Prince Charming.  The girl always, always, always wears the most gorgeous poofy dress ever made, and she looks happy and radiant as the gazes adoringly up at the Prince.  The weather is always perfect, the flowers never die, and not one relative puts up a fuss about having to sit in the second row with the more distant aunts and uncles.  No one complains that there wasn’t a vegetarian selection on the menu, and there are no arguments over how much alcohol constitutes enough for the guests.  Cinderella has her perfect day, and because she did, we assume that we can as well.  As long as we have the perfect dress.

The interesting part of the Kardashian-Odom wedding is the attention paid to Khloe’s dress.  That’s the first thing everyone wants to know — what did she wear?  We don’t care that the relationship began because he paid her $3000.00 bar tab, and she thought it was romantic.  We don’t care that these two haven’t had time to figure out how to negotiate arguments because they haven’t had enough time to actually have an argument.  We don’t really care whether the marriage will last or not, we just care about what she wore.  Sorry guys, no one really pays attention to what the groom is wearing — unless he’s in a powder blue tuxedo that frames a ruffled shirt.  Then we care.  And this is the problem with weddings, they aren’t really about honoring the love and devotion of a couple to one another, they’re about providing entertainment for others, and they’re about that dress.

Weddings are for crazy people.  Seriously.  Weddings bring out all of the family drama, and, folks, let me tell you, it ain’t pretty.  My first marriage was completely opposed by my parents.  In retrospect, I don’t blame them a bit.  They were right.  There I admit it.  I should have listened to Mom and Dad.  But I was a naive almost-21-year old who believed in “true love” and “forever” even when the Prince didn’t really bring to the table the qualities that would have been helpful in establishing and sustaining these ideals.  What’s interesting is that it was the wedding itself that kept me from backing out when I realized it was not the right thing to do.  You see, my dear readers, I was one of those “lucky” brides-to-be who won a wedding dress in a raffle at a bridal show.  Yes, a $500.00 dress pushed me up the aisle.

Before I won the dress, the wedding was destined to be a small family-affair in a backyard somewhere.  After the dress?  After winning the dress it was decided that we needed a more formal place — for pictures, of course.  Then the flowers needed to be upgraded because goodness knows we couldn’t have plain flowers with that dress!  Suddenly my sisters were slated to wear matching bridesmaid dresses, the invitations had to be professionally designed, the reception needed caviar and chocolate dipped strawberries, and, of course, the dress required a limousine to drive it to the church.  This became the most expensive “free” dress on the planet.

Of course, planning the wedding around the dress became my life’s mission, and in doing so, I neglected to notice that the groom-to-be’s only concern was whether or not there would be enough beer and Jagermiester at the reception.  [Yes, I know.  Please, it was a mistake made well over 20 years ago, let it go].  As the day drew nearer, my beloved and I were constantly fighting over in-law issues, in private, of course.  In public, we put on the “we’re so happy to be getting married!” faces and went to all of the showers and parties hosted by friends and family.  By the time our wedding day rolled around, I was experiencing anxiety over whether or not I wanted to walk down the aisle.  Unfortunately, the dress prevented me from discussing this with anyone.  Anytime I had doubts, someone invariably sighed, “Oh you’re going to look so beautiful in that dress!”  or “Don’t you just love the fact that you’ll have pictures of you in that gorgeous dress 20 years from now?”  The dress overshadowed any doubts.  If I wore the dress, I would be the Princess.  I would live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, the dress didn’t erase my doubts.  On the day of my wedding, standing in the back of the church, my dad looked at me as we were about to start the march up the aisle and said, “Are you sure you want to do this, kiddo?”  It was ironic because I had just been thinking to myself, “Wow, if this lasts five years, we’re going to be really lucky.”  I felt the weight of the dress bearing down on me as I looked up at him and just nodded.  I couldn’t actually open my mouth and lie to my dad, so I trudged up the aisle.  I could barely say my vows because I was so nervous, and as I watched a friend of the family sing “Just You and I” [yes, I know it's the cheesiest song on earth, but not cheesier than our recessional--the theme from "Chariots of Fire."  Hey, I was young!], I was horrified to realize that not only was she not wearing a bra under her clingy, slinky dress, but that I didn’t really feel any joy in hearing the lyrics to the song.  I looked down at my dress, hoping that it would do it’s job and lift my spirits, but all I saw was what felt like miles of satin spilling down the steps of the altar, like it was trying to run away.  My dress didn’t even want to be present for this debacle.

The marriage lasted almost three years. It was two-and-a-half years longer than it should have lasted, and when we finally parted ways I took the dress with me.  I hung it in the closet of my new apartment as a reminder to myself that wearing a pretty wedding dress did not, in any way, ensure a happy ending, and that I would never again succumb to the temptation of marrying someone in order to wear a pretty dress.

I’m still absolutely fascinated with wedding dresses.  I love them. I think they are gorgeous and beautiful, and hold the promise of making me feel like a princess.  Only now, the next time I buy one, I’m going to wear it to mow the lawn and do the dishes.  After all, wouldn’t it be much more fun to be able to wear a wedding dress to make ordinary things extraordinary all the time?

I wish Khloe and Lamar all the happiness in the world, and I hope that they are able to find a way to turn one extraordinary day into a future together.  But if they can’t, I’ve got some ideas about what Khloe could do with that dress…

What say you?

Francisco’s Entry [September 29, 2009]

To call this post “weddings” instead of “marriage” is right-on. It seems to me that there is so much focus on the wedding itself that people tend to overlook the actual marriage that is looming ominously behind that one magical day, sharpening its claws and teeth, getting ready to pounce on the happy couple right after the honeymoon and to slowly devour them over the course of their lifetime together. I have heard many, many women talk of their dream wedding, the dream that they have envisioned since childhood – the dress, the venue, the music, the dress, sometimes the guy –  but I don’t think I have ever heard a woman talk about her dream marriage. And men, well, I’ve never heard of a man to dream of a wedding or a marriage.

Women talk all the time about men and their egos, but lets talk about a woman’s ego for a moment. I think a woman dreams of her wedding because she wants to be a celebrity for a day. She wants to be the focus of every eye in the vicinity. She wants everyone to take photos of her. She wants to hear everybody whispering about how beautiful she looks as she floats around the room. Is this not ego? Is this not self-adulation? I’m not demonizing this – I think women are beautiful, and they should be celebrated – but I just think there could be a less permanent, costly way to do it.

Since we can pretty much agree that women are the driving force behind almost all marriages, oftentimes a relentless driving force, it can be said that women’s need to feed their ravenous egos drives most people to the altar. [The Elvis-officiated Vegas chapel is probably an exception, tequila shots and a rail of coke snorted off of a stripper's chest likely being the driving force behind those weddings. I've never been to Vegas. No, I have. I don't remember now.]

And since the only thing that a woman wants more than to be looked at and adored is to buy clothing, it is obvious that hordes of bridal magazines, dress designers and stores will do everything they can to promote the idea of the blissful wedding day, thus adding momentum to the myth that we are all destined for that one ideal, everlasting slice of heaven that is marriage. And once the muscle of commerce is behind something, watch out. For evidence of this, we need look no further than the fact that the cost of an average wedding looms somewhere around $25,000 these days. [This is not a statistic, so correct me if I'm way off.]

I want to be fair and talk about why men want to get married…but I can’t for the life of me come up with anything [well, besides the Vegas scenario].

In all honesty, there are men and women who do get married for the marriage rather than the wedding. Some want to marry so they can have children and raise them in a traditional family environment. Good for those people – they actually have valid reasons for making that huge decision. But, although I have never met either of them, I would wager that those are not the reasons behind the Kardashian-Odom wedding.