When I was seventeen, I was a bridesmaid in my favorite cousin's wedding. She had a barefoot-hippie wedding on the beach of Lake Tahoe, complete with vegan cake and a blue wedding dress. My very Catholic Nana and my Born Again aunt both nearly birthed a cow when they found out about the blue dress. My cousin said that the blue was non-negotiable: she'd lived with her fiancé for years, and they weren't fooling anyone. I wore a blue sun dress and walked down the (sand) aisle on the arm of a guy with a tattoo on his neck. (My dad nearly birthed a cow when he got a look at the tattoo)
It is clear to me now how out of place I was there. I practically pranced next to Neck Tattoo. I had carefully tweezed and blown out my hair. I was so young and shiny and girl-next-door. But I was elated. Being a bridesmaid was the most important thing I'd ever been allowed to do. I thought that all of my cousin'f friends with their liberal beliefs and ultra healthy food were so interesting and sophisticated.
I have no idea why my cousin asked me to be in her wedding, perhaps it was that I am the first female cousin (and thus, closest to her in age). Or perhaps its because of the hero worship that I'd always had (OK, still kind of have) for her. Or perhaps purposely losing touch with every single person you've known longer than a few years is a family trait... Whatever her reasons, it was the coolest thing that had ever happened to me.
Now, seven years later, my close friends are getting married.
I have been asked to be a bridesmaid.
I am less than elated this time around.
Perhaps its because the other bridesmaids are awful stuck-up bitches (save one) and not my cousin's friend with the angel wings tattooed on her shoulder-blades. Perhaps its because I smell a Bridezilla situation brewing already. Perhaps its because she informed me that her wedding colors are royal blue and orange. Or perhaps its because I've always been better friends with the male half of this particular couple than the female half.
Between now and June (of course, a June wedding. Original, no?) I will have to listen to the overwhelming flow of wedding minutia. Flowers, dresses, venues, guest lists, caterers. Drama, weight pressures (You must come dress shopping, love. You have the biggest... breasts). I'm not looking forward to any of it.
I know that I should be flattered, and I know that I had a choice. I suppose that I could have said no. I am flattered, or at least surprised to have been asked. Even though I don't want to be involved, I wouldn't dream of hurting the bride's feelings by saying no. Is there a tactful way to say "I know we've been friends for years, but I don't want to support you in front of everyone on your wedding day"? I didn't think so. Besides, even though I think that Bridezilla is a little ridiculous (and pretty damn tacky) I do really like her. So I'm going to suck it up and wear an ugly dress and smile.
I swear that if I catch the bouquet, I will choke a bitch.
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