As an engaged person, I am technically in an “in between” state, maritally speaking.
I often have to remind myself that being engaged sort of entails an intent to marry, which means … a wedding. I think I’m supposed to be in wedding-planning mode but every time I think about doing something even vaguely wedding-related I feel tired. It’s not that I don’t want to get married. I just don’t want to have to do anything to make it happen.
Given the number of drawings of wedding gowns I did as a 14 year old (bows EVERYWHERE), I’m as surprised as anyone about this lack of bridal enthusiasm. I guess when you’ve already got a mortgage and a toddler there’s not a lot of urgency in setting a date. A lot of people feel like they have to get married before they have kids. We’re more in “we have to get married before we die” territory.
But a recent discovery while perusing my buddy Consuela’s reading material may just be the “gateway drug” to bridal excitement that I haven’t been looking for.
Because if you’re anything like me, when your eye beholds something as dated and awful as the 1983 book Brides: A Complete Guide to Planning Your Wedding you will devour it with much relish (which would go beautifully with the cider-glazed ham that there’s a recipe for on page 106, by the way).
It all starts rather promisingly with the cover, which features a bride on what looks like a floral trapeze. Or maybe it’s a swing, but I like to imagine it’s part of a circus-themed wedding and the officiating minister is waiting hanging on another trapeze to grab her by the ankles before swinging her over to the groom.
Once you open the book, things continue to be surprising and delightful. I mean, look at this happy couple.
I don’t know what it is about them but I hate them in a really satisfying way.
It’s like a Duran-Duran-meets-Mary-Poppins dream sequence but without any of the charm of either of those things.
When I saw this pair I thought: “Great, this book is going to be full of beaming white tooth smiles.”
Boy, was I wrong. These are the happiest people in the entire book. It turns out getting married makes most people pretty depressed.
You know how sometimes at a restaurant you’ll get a napkin folded into the shape of a swan? This one has been folded into the shape of a wedding dress. This gown is fancy napkin origami and the woman wearing it knows it which is why she looks so bummed. Also because she’s sprouted some gypsophila out of her head. This book is very heavy with gypsophila.
It’s the little things that really make a difference in any wedding or any book about weddings. Like, why have bullet points when you can have little pink love hearts instead?
According to this book, having some kind of interaction with a chimney sweep on the way to your wedding is good luck.
Hmmm. A white dress and a guy covered in soot. Yup, well if you come away from that encounter unbesmirched then I guess that IS lucky.
Or you could just avoid chimney sweeps in the first place. Also, park benches covered in bird crap, bottles of red wine, grafitti artists, and the Indian place at the food court.
Making your own luck then, aren’t you?
I have nothing much to say about this other than, she looks really miserable. All of the brides in this book are seriously unhappy.
It’s like this book is trying to say that unless you’re getting married on a trapeze or to Simon Le Bon, it’s just not going to be a satisfying experience. Even with a motherflipping tiara.
Which is fair enough, I guess.
It can be really hard to decide what kind of music to have as part of your wedding ceremony, but definitely don’t discount a coven of Satan-worshipping children murmuring demonic chants in the background as this can really create an intimate atmosphere.
Speaking of pacts with Satan, how on earth can Quinn from Glee look exactly the same 30 years later? What manner of sorcery might this be?
Nice to see that she’s miserable just like everybody else though. No special treatment because you’re mates with Satan, Quinny.
This bride doesn’t just look like she’s having the worst day of her life – she looks like she might be having the last day of her life.
She looks like she should be floating into the background in a horror movie.
All this bridal sadness is getting a bit much. Can’t we just have some cake?
Yes, but only if the windowsill matches the flowers matches the tablecloth and there is a metric butt-tonne of gypsophila on everything.
So, I think we can assume that whoever wrote this book was only moonlighting from their day job as the owner of a commercial gypsophila garden.
As cheesy as Brides: A Complete guide to Planning Your Wedding is, I think it may have already helped me.
I already know that I don’t want any trapezes, napkin gowns, chimney sweeps or gypsophila to be part of our big day, though I’m still considering the satanist choirboys.
So technically I have narrowed things down slightly.
Has this bridal book inspired you at all? Are you even now looking for a font with love-heart bullet points? Are these the unhappiest brides you’ve ever seen?
(Originally published on Stuff, 30/04/2015)