Bridehood Revisited: The decline of civilization at $250 a plate

Trashing

I have vascillated greatly in my feelings about trashthedress.com. On one hand, it seems so cool, and freeing. On the other, it's just dumb.

There are some people it works for. There are some people who have the personality to pull it off, and who have a photographer to make it look cool. I find that a lot of the pictures on the site make the brides look like they fell while crawling over the fence of the house party after prom when they were trying to escape the po-po. Which is to say, really stupid. And dirty. And what's the point?

I think what annoys me most about the site is the reasoning that one should participate in this to show the husband that she'll never wear the dress again.

First, that's just dumb. Totally not even a good reason.

Second, yes, there are psychotic brides who would wear the same dress twice. But these brides? Are totally not the people to do something like this anyway.

Also, I'm pretty sure the vows are supposed to say that she'll never marry again. You know, during that whole promising to love and honor one another so long as they both shall live.

It is clear that many photographers are not good at this. If Jessica Claire tried to convince me, she might persuade me. If Willi Wong  tried to convince me, probably. If I were doing a shoot for Martha Stewart Weddings and they asked me to, oh hell yes. But if I were doing it, I would need an artistic purpose, and need to be done with a true artist.

For me, this would seriously be the very last thing on my mind. Hell, I'd be so hell bent on dieting to get into my dress in the first place that I totally wouldn't be able to think about what I would do with it after the wedding.

And not to mention, I can't stomach the thought of actually trashing  something so very, very expensive.

In short: The day is done. You can save your dress for your daughter. But, at the same time, what is the chance that you would wear your own mother's dress? Not high, huh? I know you think your dress is amazing, but your daughter will feel the same way. Plus, I still have hope that at some time in the future, all strapless dresses will be outlawed for perpetuating the myth that awkward cleavage, armboob (aka pit tit), and atomic fat rolls cowering over satin will be outlawed. It's this hope that keeps me going, people.

Back to the topic, dear...

You could sell your dress. Nothing wrong with that. God Loves eBay.

You could store it forever.

You could also donate it: www.idofoundation.org or www.makingmemories.org.

It is a personal decision. Do what is best. But please don't look like a dumb, muddy, prom queen caught in the rain. Especially in a stupid strapless dress.

Forgive and forget?

So I know I promised a post following up on the Trash the Dress post below.

And I haven't written it.

I'm sorry.

I'm away on business.

To make up for this heinous error on my part, I will post on one of the most controversial of all wedding related topics: Children at wedding: What I think, and who are the real assholes.

You KNOW it's going to be fun. 

Yeah, still here, but busy

Work is very hectic this week my I had to turn my impressiveness on for MamaPopTalk so they decide to keep me as a moderator. Apparently sending naked pictures didn't sway them and I actually have to, you know, moderate things.

So since I'm not in the business of being funny this week I leave you with this: Trash the Dress. Talk amongst yourselves in the comments and in a day or two I'll post what I really feel about this site. I don't want to tarnish your thoughts. Or, you know, think of actual words to write.

Fun things in the blogosphere

I logged in to my GChat today and I see that Hollow Squirrel's tagline says "DD Addict".

She and I have chatted via e-mail several times, mostly so she could tell me about her Pretty Pony themed wedding. She swears it was perty. What. Ev.

Anyway, I felt the need to ask her today if she was addicted to DD boobs or Dirty Dancing.

Apparently it's neither.

She's addicted to Dunkin Donuts. That was so not clear.

I think she's lying and talking about boobs.

Anyway.

I am maybe perhaps auditioning to be a moderator on MamaPopTalk. As all things with me involved are very fun, you should come and visit and talk to me.

Confetti is not fun, people. NOT FUN.

I hate opening an envelope and having confetti falling out. What's the point? Being surprised? Sure. I'm surprised, but not pleasantly so.  When things fall all over the floor and then stick to the bottom of my shoes and find there way into the very thin crevices in my hardwood floors so they can remain there and sparkle at me forever because I can't freaking remove them, I am unhappy.

I HATE confetti.

On tables?

No.

No.

No.

A door opens, a breeze blows and the confetti is contaminating your food.

It sticks to the bottom of your drink glasses.

It sticks to sweaters.

It gets into the carpet.

It gets into your hair and sticks to your face and someone takes a picture of you and you forever look far more dumb than your drunken self would have looked anyway.

It's a motherfucking bitch to clean up.

So yes, I hate confetti.

And you know what that means?

Oh yes, it means that I would HATE you to the depths of the firey fires of hell if you put confetti with your fucking picture on it in an envelope and sent it to me. There is no one I like that much that I would want teeeeeeeny pictures of them staring back at me.

So sure, if you want me, and really, I know I'm not alone, so myself and MANY others to be very mad at you and question your judgment of all that is good and holy, please, do not spend $19.99 for personalized confetti.

A journey for us all.

My take on Precious Moments weddings. Click here for the photo album.