Understanding Bridezilla's Point of View

I heard an interesting theory the other day: a justification for the high cost of wedding services.

As Clyde and I prepare for our September ceremony, I've noticed in my research on invitations to caterers, how much everything costs. And when you put the word "wedding" in front of it, it's twice as expensive or more. It's what I call the over priced and over hyped "Wedding-Industrial Complex."

So the justification for this inflating, this nuptial gouging, from dress makers to cake bakers, is: that brides are especially difficult customers. With the singular goal of having THE perfect wedding, these "bridezillas" are impossible to please. They demand way more time than the average customer, they change orders at the last minute, and they are bitchy. Throw in their mothers, future mothers-in-law, and a couple of "helpful" bridesmaids, those poor vendors have their work cut out for them.

Point taken. And by the way, let's face it, the grooms are usually absent at this stage of the planning, unless there are only grooms in which case ...

So anyway, I am not ready to excuse the excesses of the WIC. I still think it's a huge rip off. I have a co-worker who spent $24,000 (yes, twenty-four thousand dollars) on his wife's engagement ring last year. I asked him why he didn't just buy her a wedding car. He also told me how much they spent on invitations, the wedding venue, the amount of money per guest at the formal sit down dinner, and the honeymoon in Mexico. It was jaw dropping.

He asked how much Clyde and I were spending. When I told him that we bought a kit on Amazon and printed invitations at home for about $25, his jaw hit the floor.

We're trying to spend money wisely. The wedding will be small - just some family and a few very close friends. We won't have a formal dinner, just some nibbles and a cake at the reception.

We're splurging on a few things, of course. We're going to buy new suits - sensible ones that we can use again. Not that I will - I haven't owned a suit in decades.

I can see the points of view of wedding vendors. I wouldn't have the patience to deal with a bridezilla.

I can also sort of relate to the bridezillas. I haven't had a melt down in a bridal shop, yet, but I do want things to go well. Even a simple wedding is stressful. There are lots little things to take care of.

For example, when we first made a list of what we needed to do, we remembered important details like meeting with the priest, planning  a honeymoon, and buying rings, but we didn't remember that we need to get a marriage license, the part that makes this LEGAL. I have no idea how or where to get it. It simply hasn't been part of my experience. I assume we go to the city and county building, but beyond that, I'm pretty clueless. What does it cost? Do we both need to go? How far ahead do we need to do it? And flowers. One of our church friends asked what we planned to do about flowers. Flowers? Huh. What else are we forgetting?

We have some advantages that most brides don't have. We're men for one thing. Unlike many little girls, neither Clyde nor I grew up dreaming of our wedding with a thousand little fantasies to live up to. Perhaps some gay men did, but we didn't. My fantasy growing up was just to have my own apartment and a boyfriend. Done and done. I never imagined I could have a legal, church sanctioned wedding. This is gravy as far as I'm concerned.

Another advantage is that we're older. We have some perspective that young couples may not have. We know things don't always go as planned and we're pretty ok with that. Our priest told us that the important thing to remember is that if she shows up (and she promises she will) and the two of us show up, we'll get married. That's all that really matters.

Marriage Equality and the Wedding-Industrial Complex

Often rejected by our families and denied the opportunity to have children, LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) people have historically formed relationships, friendships, and families in alternative ways, making our own rules. Being queer is doing things differently.

So now we have marriage equality. Because of a recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling, our marriages can be exactly the same, legally, as everyone else's. Having always carried the alternative lifestyle banner, where does this new legitimized status leave us? Do our relationships have to be the same as everyone else's now too? Do our weddings suddenly have to look like those of the straight majority?

This is a pertinent question for Clyde and me. We have decided to get married. Yes, we are officially engaged (thank you - please hold all applause until the end). This is a happy occasion that frankly, 20 years ago, I wouldn't have believed possible. Our loved ones are as excited as we are. One friend got goosebumps when we told her.

While we know we're going to get married, we are still thinking about what kind of wedding to have.

No doubt some queer people want to enjoy marriage equality to the fullest and celebrate with exactly the same kind of traditional wedding that everyone else has always been able to have. This would include a church full of flowers, a long lineup of formally dressed best men and women, a first class catered reception dinner, and of course, a honeymoon in the Caribbean. It would be extravagant and yet tasteful, combining tradition with that expected gay aesthetic.

But hold on. Maybe I don't want to automatically conform to the hetero-normative model. I know that saying "hetero-normative" makes me sound "old school gay," but just because we can do it now, does that mean we have to participate in the wedding-industrial complex? Must we spend tens of thousands of dollars on a wedding consultant, obsessing over center pieces, and getting a good band?

Like straight people, we have the option to just go to the city-county building and have a quick civil ceremony.  In Colorado, you don't have to be married by a judge or minister. As long as you have a marriage license, anyone can officiate. We could just do a private ritual in the mountains by ourselves and declare to the world that we are now married.

The more stereotypically LGBT options are also still available to us, of course. We could have a politically correct nondenominational ceremony, a gluten free vegan reception, and a honeymoon marching on Washington.

We could also dress up like fairies and dance around a Maypole.

But I would like to celebrate our legal union in a more modest way. Ok, to be honest, as Clyde says, I'd rather spend the money on another fabulous National Geographic expedition vacation.

Being L,G,B, or T means always questioning the status quo, considering alternatives, and doing what's best for us. Legal marriage doesn't have to change that. It just gives us more choices than we had before.