I don’t really read bridal magazines — though I’ll gleefully pore over what amounts to the same content online. I did, however, find a big stack of mags intended for the recycling bin in front of the building next door to my own. I snapped them up and multiple copies of these are what I found:
I think the woman on the leftmost cover has a headache. Anyway, are Hawaiian weddings really popular to warrant whole magazines…or could it be that sneaky publishers know that there are brides without a snowball’s chance in heck of marrying in Hawaii who will still want to look at the pretty pictures. Do you gals subscribe to any of these magazines? Or do/did you do most of your wedding-related browsing online, like me?
Plugged your stats into BrideAudit™ yet? Going Bridal, with the aid of your answers to a few simple questions, will help you “analyze the assets of your guests, decide their appropriate level of giving, and provide you with invoices that you can include in your invitations.” If you think that’s just plain icky, please remember that it’s a joke. And also, for my sanity, remember that guests are not required to cover the cost of their plates. Where that erroneous bit of lore came from is beyond me.
And, finally, here is a shocking expose of tacky wedding behavior courtesy of shuniah, a member of Indie Brides:
I was at a wedding today, and they auctioned off the brides garter! The MC announced the auction before dinner, then announced it again before the speeches. I was thinking, “Hmmm…maybe it’s a “joke” auction or the money is for charity“…but nope. The DJ badgered people, saying because we’d all had such a great (rubber chicken) dinner, we could help the bride and groom out! It was…odd. And I was shocked.
The bride sat in the middle of the room on a chair — the more people bid, the further the groom could slide the garter down her leg. The DJ kept egging the crowd on — most of us just sat there looking kind of embarrassed.
I don’t know whose idea this was, but I didn’t even do a garter toss because I was too shy. I can’t imagine sitting there for 15 minutes with my dress hiked up to my thigh.
Um, wow. And by wow, I of course mean yuck.