After a trip with my friend Trudy and her mother to Trudy’s wedding dress fitting, I gushed to Trudy’s mom about how gorgeous Trudy looked in her strapless white gown.
“Don’t worry,” Trudy’s mother said. “It’ll be your turn soon.”
“God, I hope not!” I blurted.
I wasn’t meaning to be rude. The words just jumped out of my mouth, so visceral is my desire to remain unmarried.
Yet driving past a wedding shop the other day I almost veered into oncoming traffic rubbernecking to see the white gowns in the window. And my admiration of friends’ new engagement rings is beyond sincere.
I don’t want a husband or a marriage, or even a wedding, but I sure do fetishize the beauty of the white dress and the sparkle of the diamond ring.
Not surprising considering I was raised bombarded by wedding industry advertising and the message of my beloved romantic comedies, both of which taught me that the wedding is the ultimate goal, the “happy ending.”
The Diamond Is Forever ad campaign (launched in 1939 by the leading advertising company N.W. Ayer and Son to reverse the declining price in diamonds) has been perhaps the most successful—and fallacious—advertising campaign in history, linking diamonds with ideas of romance, true love, and a courtship sealed by the inviolability of church and state.
But if a diamond were really forever, then The Derailers would never have written the lyrics: “These pawn shop wedding rings are gonna learn about love.”
I suspect my desire for the ring and the gown goes deeper than merely media indoctrination. Feminist theorist Naomi Wolf wrote that part of the reason she chose to have a wedding was because the wedding day is the only day a woman’s beauty and sexuality are celebrated by her community. (i.e. Naomi wanted to wear that big white gown).
So what’s a modern-day Spinster who wants the ring and the dress but has no longing for a husband or marriage to do?
For me the diamond ring fetish was easy to satisfy. For $3.99 I bought a faux platinum diamond band at the dime store and wore it proudly (on my right hand) until the “platinum” finish began to peel, which elicited a “You like that ring because you’re a cracker,” from my friend Sam, followed by a good-natured, “That ring says to me, ‘I would like a dollhouse husband. I would like a dollhouse life.”
With the ring issue easily settled, I still have yet to figure out what to do about my longing to wear a wedding gown. My friend Domenica suggested we go to a wedding shop together and take pictures of each other in an array of wedding dresses.
“But what will we tell the saleswomen when they ask about our weddings?” I wanted to know.
“We should tell them we’re getting married to each other,” Domenica suggested.
I countered we should say neither of us is actually engaged, but are both hopeful our respective boyfriends will pop the question soon.
Domenica then insisted that regardless of our cover story, we both have to refrain from brushing our hair for two weeks before our outing.
Domenica and I haven’t had our ratty-haired excursion to the bridal shop yet, but it’s still on the table as an option.
My other idea is to buy a used wedding gown and wear it every year on Halloween. Because everyone agrees it’s a shame those gorgeous gowns only get one wear.
But my most recent—and perhaps best—idea is to make a debut as a burlesque dancer doing a bride number.
A garter, a veil, a big white dress (with Velcro down the sides for easy on-stage removal), a giant “diamond” ring, a bouquet to throw to an adoring crowd.
No marriage required.
I love this post! Looking forward to the follow-up post after you all try on the dresses!
My co-blogger Lisa pondered wearing a faux ring on her *left* had just to see what happened, but she hasn’t done it yet. It would be funny to wear a really cheap, peeling ring on the left index finger.
Christina
“These pawn shop wedding rings are gonna learn about love.” This is the best line
If you go to the bride store don’t try on anything other than a Vera Wang. . .you won’t regret it;) the cheap ones just won’t do. I made the mistake of trying on a Vera Wang at St. Thomas and everything else looked like crap in comparison. For the price of a car, I could have looked like a million bucks. I’ve never seen myself look so fabulous as I did that day
xoxo
It is fun to play dress up! My girls love to parade around in thrift shop gowns and plastic jewelry. But that is very different than getting married. Having worked as a wedding photographer for a while, I think your sentiment is quite widespread and that many of the couples who were getting hitched were doing it for the trappings. Just an expensive dress up playdate. I am glad to have had the opportunity to attend the weddings of several people who could have been married in mud and burlap sacks for all they cared. They were beautiful weddings filled with beautiful people who were madly, overwhelmingly in love. Much more valuable than a sparkly rock or white silk.
I always wanted — craved, lusted after, fetishized — wedding cakes, long before I ever wanted to be married. So I totally relate! I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t have these things, even if we don’t want the *other* things that go along with them.
Another way you could enjoy a wedding gown: Become that eccentric lady who throws parties for herself and always wears a wedding dress & veil as she serves her guests cocktails… You know, THAT lady. You could be her. Why not?
Miss Mary,….Oh how we must talk. I want IN on that BURLESQUE NUMBER!
You are a special one, as am I, and you continually make me smile.
I think you should definately do some sort of ‘Performance Piece’…!
Lacey
Thanks for all the great comments and insights! I love my people. xo
My offer still stands, MP. I’ll throw out my hairbrush right now!
Domenica, you’re on–it won’t be a stretch for me as my hair rarely sees a brush as it is.
So the moral of this story is the bump and grind is better than a ball and chain? If so, I wholeheartedly agree.