Anthropologically speaking, this makes total sense: weddings are a rite of passage and rites are meant to be enjoyed/endured (take your pick) with groups of people who find themselves at a similar phase in their lives. In my undergraduate introduction to cultural anthropology course, we call these age sets: corporate groups of people about the same age who share specific rights, obligations, duties and privileges in their community (Scupin, 436).
In other words, now that I’m a bride, I share this weird, psychic bond with all other brides. Which is why, when I saw another bride at the DC salon with long curly hair, my instinct was to run up to her and shout, “Oh my God, you too? Does your fiancé love your curly hair? Does he want you to wear it down even though you love to dance and keep telling him it’s going to get all sweaty and look terrible by the end of the night? Do you trust these makeover people with your curls? And what you think of these cascading waterfall braids that are evidently all the rage right now? Are you going to get one?”
But then, yesterday, while I was out to lunch with my brother’s girlfriend (yes, Tech Support has a new girlfriend. And yes, she’s awesome. And yes, we do lunch) it happened again.
My brother’s girlfriend’s sister is getting married you see, and somehow her caterer cancelled on her less than 3 weeks before the wedding.
As a bride, I couldn’t help but shout “Oh my God! That’s terrible!”
(As a bride, you have to begin ever sentence with “Oh my God.”)
I still don’t quite understand what happened (how is that even legal?) but long story short, they’re scrambling now and they’re out quite a bit of money so my brother’s girlfriend is trying to help them get their budget back on track by doing all of the decorations herself.
“What are their colors?” I asked.
“Blue,” she replied, “and silver I think.”
“Oh my God!” (I told you. Required.) “But our colors are blue and silver! And gold. Take our stuff. She can borrow it and then just give it back after the wedding. I have some vases, some silver balls, some garlands… Let me pull up my Pinterest account and show you.”
“That would be great,” she replied. “But eat first.”
Eat? How could I eat? How could I eat when a fellow bride was in trouble? I’ve never even met this women but by virtue of her being a bride and my being a bride, we have a bond. I have to help her.
So I got up at 7:15 this morning, made PIC a pot of coffee, and started an inventory:
(And yes, I’ve finally become convinced of the virtues of the Oxford comma; you’re welcome Katie B.)
Silver recycled cardboard wreaths with silver glitter: 3
Fair trade silver star garlands: 4
Fair trade gold star garlands (just in case): 4
Gold burlap balls (actually I believe we brides call them spheres?) wrapped in navy blue tulle: 5
12″ cylindrical glass vases: 20 (Yes 20. Don’t ask; these were purchased during my “build it and they will come” phase.)
Silver willow spheres: 50 (they were on clearance at Pier One, okay???)
It turned out to be quite a lot actually, and that’s not even including my galvanized ice bucket, my galvanized beverage dispenser or my silver Eiffel Tower statue…
Or the six silver frames I’ve amassed.
Or the yards and yards of paper circle garlands I’ve been sewing to keep myself from getting stressed out (I’ve used up all of my paper, by the way, and have now moved onto weaving scarves. 4 and counting. And no I’m not kidding.)
But you can see, quite clearly, when a crisis like this occurs, that it is all worth it. Because us brides-to-be have to stick together and what do I need with 20 vases sitting on my shelves collecting dust until May when they could be someone else’s salvation?