Manolo for the Brides

I’m the first one to say that marriage isn’t always about ZOMG PASSION. First kisses, those are about passion. Romantic weddings? Passion-o-rama. Post break-up youknowwhatsie? Whoa Nelly! But marriage…marriage is occasionally antipassion, a substance that has a lot in common with antimatter. But, hey, there’s gotta be some passion, because that little spark that makes you feel all googlywoogly in your stomach when you look at your mate should never die out completely.

Unless, that is, you are one Lori Gottlieb, a woman who has apparently made a career out of airing her complexities (read: issues) in the public eye. In a recent article entitled Marry Him! she asserts that every single woman everywhere, no matter how satisfied, no matter how independent, wants a man, any man, as in “oh please for the love of God send a man so I can get married because there is no greater fulfillment for a woman!”

My advice is this: Settle! That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in movie theaters. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a family, settling is the way to go.

To Gottlieb, marriage and by extension men (there’s no mention of what lesbians want) are nothing more than a means to an end. If you want security and a permanent live-in partner, then you need to start looking past his lack of wit, his lack of culture, and his lack of personality so you can start looking at what he does have, namely a pulse and a job.

I’m actually pro-settling to a certain extent. One line in the article, “I would say even if he’s not the love of your life, make sure he’s someone you respect intellectually, makes you laugh, appreciates you … I bet there are plenty of these men in the older, overweight, and bald category” really resonated with me. I happen to believe that there are tons of great guys who fall into the doesn’t-have-cool-hair-laughs-at-inappropriate-times-a-little-pudgy-can’t-dance-worth-a-damn category.

The point, however, is not that you settle for these rare and wonderful creatures. Rather, it’s that you give them a chance, find out that in addition to playing a mean game of WoW they’re secret sex machines, and then thank the Lord that some other lucky lady didn’t snap them up first. You don’t say, oh, ho hum, I’m just shy of forty so I better snare the first set of XY chromosomes who happens along so I don’t turn into a lonely old hag.

Unless, like I said, you’re Lori Gottlieb, in which case you’re probably going to spend your life sighing over romantic comedies while a husband who bores the crap out of you is off puttering around his workshop. Or not. As a friend of mine put it, “What, exactly, is she bringing to the table? Naked desperation and a ton of to-be-delegated responsibility? I, for one, am SHOCKED she hasn’t found a guy willing to “settle” for that.”

Heh.

You know your best friend isn’t really your best friend when she shows up on your doorstep, terribly excited that she finally found THE perfect bridesmaids’ dresses, and after a great deal of hand fluttering and giggling, she shows you this Saeyoung Vu Couture number. We left butt bows behind for a reason…there’s no need for the boob bow to step in to fill the gap.

All I can think of when looking at this dress is how that bow will undoubtedly come in handy during drunken attendant couplings wherein overzealous and none too coordinated groomsmen are doing their best to make sweet, sweet inebriated love to bridesmaids in reception hall broom closets. The bow says, quite clearly, “Hey, you fumbling oaf, ‘the girls’ are right here!” It is, additionally, something to grab onto when the world starts spinning and all that post-nuptial naughtiness just plain loses its allure.

During my childhood and youth, flower girls wore different colors of dresses, different hairstyles, different shoes, and carried different flowers, but they all had one thing in common: they were dressed as little girls.

If they wore white dresses, they were simple and designed to flatter a small child’s figure and often had colored sashes. More often they wore pastel dresses that toned with the bridal party. Make up? Didn’t happen, unless it was a tiny dab of clear or pale pink lip gloss.

When did we start turning flower girls into the brides in Tom Thumb Weddings?

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I know, I know, the actual slogan is ‘WE go bridal’, but I think mine is more appropriate.

Tomorrow, WE TV kicks off a week of intense bridal programming to program us all for Valentine’s Day, when successful girls get diamond rings and live happily ever after…once they finish with all the stress and insanity of plotting…er…planning a wedding, which cannot be done without the help of a wedding planner and now a boot camp instructor.

Yes, a new and yet more degrading show has been added to the lineup by the folks that brought you such gems as Bridezillas, that ode to bridal misbehavior, and Rich Bride, Poor Bride which seems to mainly be about how it’s impossible to stick to a wedding budget and why your marriage will always be improved by spending twice what you thought you were going to on the wedding. This one is the revoltingly-titled ‘Bulging Brides.’

Yes, at long last we have a show dedicated to informing brides to be that their lives will be ruined if they don’t lose those extra five or ten pounds before they march down the aisle in their cookie-cutter-inspired strapless gowns. From the previews I’ve seen, most of the women featured are not heavy by any stretch of the imagination…they just either bought their gowns a bit too small or managed to gain a couple pounds since they bought. Eek. How horrible!

Don’t worry, though! Help is on the way! Trainer Tommy Europe and nutritionist Nadeen Bowman are ready to publicly humiliate you and whip you into shape. I’ve asked this before, but why oh why do women sign up for these shows? What are they getting that’s a worthy recompense for their dignity?

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Now that we’re reaching the end of New York’s Fashion Week (sorry, that’s Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week) and I have clothes on the brain, I thought it might be nice to have a gander at some of the more weddingish pieces to come out of the various Fall 2008 shows.

I have no idea who you are, Alice + Olivia, but I think I love you. I recently read that black is the new, um, itself in the world of weddings (sorry, Twistie!) so if you chose this as your bridal frock you’d have no trouble coordinating your accessories around the sash and the straps.

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Faux can be fabulous, provided one has chosen either a high-quality imitator or something that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Artful artificial blooms can look stunning and, in some cases, do things Mother Nature cannot. You’ll never hear me criticize anyone who chooses moisenite, cz, or cut glass over real diamonds. Poly blends can stand in for silks wonderfully, depending on the frock. I could go on, but I think you get my point.

But faux ice? Fake carved frozen water that in some cases cost a great deal more than a traditional ice sculpture? I understand that the company behind it is marketing its product mainly to caterers and party venues who go through ice like I go through handbags, but it does suggest that friends of the general public “will be amazed at the exquisite UnReal Ice centerpieces [they] provide for each and every party.”

This reminds me of those neon ice balls you could buy in 80s-era supermarkets so that your drink wouldn’t get watered down by your cooling mechanism. I wonder if these operate on the same principle… There are some more photos behind the cut as well as a snapshot of an ice sculpture made of actual water for comparison.

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As is always the case in the first half of February, Valentine’s Day is approaching speedily. Nowadays, the percentage of ladies who are proposing to their gentlemen has gone way up. It’s still not through the roof, but I thought I mention it being that I know a goodly handful of my readers are individuals of the female persuasion who are not actually engaged. Back when I started enjoying the mass of wedding blogs out there (and writing my own) I was nowhere close to being promised, though I wanted to be ever so badly.

In fact, I’d even tested the waters by asking The Beard what he’d say if I did propose, but the Eight Ball in his heart was all, “Ask again later.” He swears that he doesn’t remember this ever happening, but he does have a mind like a colander. Perhaps things would have been better if I had simply presented him with one of these awesome boxed proposal bowls from Paloma’s Nest.

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(It appears that entire posts and a good chunk of recent comments have vanished into thin air — for that I humbly apologize! Presumably this has something to do with the recent image uploading issues that are no doubt being fixed as I write this)

It’s a good thing my bridesmaids weren’t being judged by the wedding establishment — they would most certainly have been deemed unfit. Luckily, they were being judged by easygoing little ol’ me who didn’t care whether or not they lifted a finger to help. Unfortunately, those stationary fingers couldn’t even be arsed to, say, order gowns in a timely fashion, meaning that both of my attendants ended up wearing frocks I didn’t quite care for. C’est la vie!

Still, my duo of bridesmaids showed up wearing appropriate wedding wear and were generally pleasant before, during, and after my wedding. Thank goodness for small favors…I chose family over friends, you see, and that in and of itself can be a recipe for calamity.

According to a Telegraph article sent to me by the absolutely fab Nicole (and a Daily Mail piece), the newest “American style” trend being adopted by British brides is the bridesmaid contract. First things first: I’d love to send off a letter to journalist Aislinn Simpson to make sure she wasn’t simply duped into thinking a one-time, overblown spoof event is the nuptial norm here in the States.

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On friday, a New York appeals court made an important decision: they have declared that valid same-sex marriages performed in other states and countries must be recognized legally in the state of New York.

The case came about in 2005 when Patricia Martinez, a word processing supervisor at Monroe Community College in Rochester, was denied spousal health benefits for her wife, Lisa Golden. The couple had been married in Canada in 2004. The college argued that the marriage was not valid in the state of New York, so spousal benefits were not required.

An appeals court panel found:

(the marriage) “is entitled to recognition in New York in the absence of express legislation to the contrary.”

While the court noted that it would be possible for the state to pass legislation to invalidate its ruling, the fact remains that this decision has been handed down and is now legal precedent, which will have to be considered in other, similar cases in other states.

Congratulations, Patricia and Lisa! And thank you.