When Cheap Geek and I got engaged last year, we had hoped for a simple wedding. If CG had his way, there would have only been thirty guests. If I had my way, we’d be donning the clothes we wore when we first ‘met’: me in a paisely-patterned vintage dress, him in jeans and a Space Invaders T-shirt.
Seven months on, our guest list is encroaching a hundred, friends and family are having costume changes, and Mum’s planning on mobilising an army of uni student helpers. I went bridezilla a couple of weeks back, venting about wedding invites. I had heard ‘It’s your special day and you should do whatever you want BUT…’ one too many times. ‘You shouldn’t do your own hair and makeup; you only get married once; get a professional to do it’, one friend said. ‘You need to wear a khan dong with your ao dai or you won’t look like a bride,’ said another. ‘Have a real bouquet. Don’t try to save money by carrying a copy of Emma.’ And, ‘You should invite the boss…[even though you don’t know her very well]…out of respect.’
In ye olden days, only the upper classes had to worry about putting on a show as befitting of social status. Nowadays, weddings are an outlet for all sorts of class aspirations. Even a small-budget bride wants to be a princess for a day.
But what if you don’t want to spend the equivalent of a home deposit on funding that expensive princess habit? What if you’d rather spend that money on double glazing or a trip around the world?
When it comes to the wedding, people keep on telling me what I should do. Apparently I’ll regret it if I don’t follow their advice.
I’m regretting not having double glazing. It’s freezing in here, and those trams are bloody loud.