This Great Society - Issue 6 - The Future

Thoughts and Analysis

Conversations of a Bride by Linette Schut
Shari-Anne Gibson

Buying the bridesmaids’ dresses
           Finding bridesmaid dresses was essentially the same as buying the wedding dress, except I was the one to try on the dress.
           One lazy summer day, we are out shopping with no original intentions of looking for bridesmaid dresses. As we pass a store, Jess says, “I think they have dresses. Want to look for the wedding?”
           “Sure,” I say. “I like trying on dresses.”
           Jess finds a simple black dress—roomy enough to accommodate the three other very pregnant bridesmaids—and hands it to me. I try it on and it’s a done deal. We walk out of the store with four dresses in garment bags, and I imagine just how good I will look as the only slim bridesmaid. Or, alternatively, how I only have a month left in which to get knocked up so I can fit in.

The guest list
           Everything is going along smoothly—I haven’t even seen Jess have a major breakdown, which I thought was inevitable when planning a wedding. Even the guest list had been prepared in a calm, no-nonsense fashion in which each guest was evaluated to determine whether or not he or she was worth the $80 it would cost for them to attend. And just like that, invitations—whose designs were also chosen from a book of options—were sent out.
           But now we are waiting for the reply cards to come in, and finally Jess is becoming antsy.
           “Don’t people understand that I’m trying to make a seating arrangement? And I have a budget to work with. At $80 a plate, I need to know who’s coming!”
           The antsy-ness was for nothing though, because when the RSVP date arrived, all replies have been received.
           But then four days before the wedding: “One of my mom’s friends just asked if they could bring their daughter! Do I know her daughter?! No! Who do these people think they are? I don’t have room for them. Do they expect me to rearrange the entire seating plan for them?”
           Tensions are starting to run high. But with an email to the wedding coordinator and a pep talk from me, Jess quickly returns to her perhaps-too-carefree state.

Three days before
           7:15 a.m.
           I hear the door open and sleepily push my head up from the pillow.
           “Linette! Wake up!”
           Loud rustling is the first clue: Jess squeezes into my tiny room wearing her wedding dress.
           “Isn’t it beautiful?”
           This is how every bride should be.

The wedding day
           The day is coming to an end. The ceremony was perfect, complete with a giggling two-year-old ring bearer and audible titters from the audience as the third pregnant bridesmaid walked down the aisle. The dinner was delicious, including the famed butter chicken and perhaps ten varieties of salad. Jess surprised Cameron with a song she’d wrote and rehearsed hundreds of times in my hearing—Cam responded with manly tears. Now the dancing is in full swing.
           The Macarena comes on and instantly the dance floor is transformed into rows of twenty-something's who grew up in the '90s.
           Jess catches my eye and mouths, “Amazing!”

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