Fuchsia is the closest thing I have to a sister. While some women would feel a twinge of sadness or jealousy at her impending nuptials, I am nothing less than thrilled for her. I know how many years she has waited for the right man, how she never thought she'd find anyone, and how much she deserves this.
She looked beautiful in every single dress she tried on. There was one gown that was particularly stunning, and when they pinned a long veil to her hair and I saw the complete picture in the full-length mirror it brought tears to my eyes. I know these giant life changes are happening all around us and these rites of passage occur every day, but when it happens to somebody close to you, it's kind of staggering.
Needless to say, it got me thinking about my own ideas about marriage and, specifically, The Big Day. Yesterday's outing, much as I enjoyed it, made me realize something once and for all:
I don't want a traditional white (or off-white, ivory, beige or champagne-colored) wedding.
I suppose this is just the latest in a growing list of unpopular opinions. Maybe the same girl-gene I'm missing that's supposed to instill a passion for chocolate (I can take or leave it) and shopping for shoes (hate it!) also controls Modern-Bride-reading, dream-wedding-planning impulses. While looking through catalogs and racks of wedding gowns, I did not see a single one I'd want to wear (I wouldn't go for anything light-colored, anyway). There were a number of breathtaking dresses, but after a while they all blurred together. Also, unless you luck out at a sample sale, a decent gown with all the trimmings goes for a couple of thousand dollars (to start). That's money that could be put toward a kick-ass honeymoon, if you ask me. Having said that, seeing how lovely Fuchsia looked in the pricier gowns made me want to fork over a credit card, say "pick any one you want" and insist she get the $650 hand-embroidered Italian floor-length veil as well.
I love seeing this happen for her. However, I know I don't want it to happen in the same way for me. In fact, this may sound strange, but I don't want anybody I know at my wedding besides my husband-to-be.
Society promotes the concept of sharing your union with your family and friends, but when I picture pledging my undying love in front of a crowd, my immediate reaction is to cringe and imagine how invasive it would feel. I mean, I already know I'm going to cry like a little girl at Fuchsia's wedding, so I can only speculate at what kind of waterworks are going to be going on when it's my turn. It's such an intimate act and I can't bear the thought turning the ceremony into even a minor spectacle--unless, of course, there's an Elvis impersonator involved. I don't mind having a big look-at-us-we're-married-isn't-that-wild party later, but the the event itself... should be private. I'd much rather get hitched in the Tibetan mountains or within Peru's Nazca lines or along the Irish coastline... somewhere either remote and tranquil or somewhere teeming and chaotic, like Tokyo, Hong Kong... or, of course, Vegas.
Now that's my idea of a dream wedding: the groom, myself, and The King. I'll take that over a Vera Wang fairy tale any day.