Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Bridesmaid Dresses or, It seemed like a good idea at the time

Bush Babe, one of my favourite bloggers, just posted a sweet and touching story about her wedding. I'd share one of my wedding photos with you but my scanner has gone belly up and is currently pining for the fjords. (Bonus points and initiation into ANW's personal fan club if you know what that means.)

I thought about wedding stories I could share, and there was one, tiny hiccup at the ceremony that still freaks out my husband of twenty-three years. The sweet woman in charge at the church had early, undiagnosed dementia and forgot to come and get me. The music started, and everyone stood, including the groom, and looked expectantly at the chapel doors. No bride. The organist went through the Entire Song, stopped, then played it AGAIN in its entirety. Still no bride, and at this point, the groom started to sweat and was convinced his beloved bride had bolted. Nope, she was downstairs, oblivious, peering in a mirror, chatting to the maid of honour, wondering when the woman was coming back to bring her upstairs. It was soon sorted out and the wedding proceeded. The relief on my soon-to-be husband's face was palpable, although it was tempered by the agony of having to endure the music a third time.

The reception, like the wedding, was a small affair without a professional photographer or speeches or flowers or any other folderol generally associated with weddings so we only have a handful of photos that guests took for us. We just wanted to get married, so we did it simply, in front of 48 invited guests, in an old chapel at McGill University. And then, in our "going away" outfits and with confetti in our hair, we ran from the reception and hopped on to a plane bound for Paris. There, in the City of Love, we took the motto a little too literally and came home pregnant. Our first child was brought home nine months to the day we married. And then fourteen months later, I was pregnant again. And then fourteen months after that... Let me put it this way - on my fourth wedding anniversary, I was expecting our third child. All I can say is, do NOT honeymoon in the City of Love unless you mean business. I would suggest you go to Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, instead.

What I can show you is a photo of my sister "Yutha" and her husband at her wedding. My sister "Brink" and I are bridesmaids. I'm on the right, Brink is on the left, and the sister responsible for our dresses is in the middle. My question is, should we forgive her?

Bear in mind that when I stood beside my husband, a tall, handsome clean-cut kind of guy in a suit, we looked exactly like Barbie and Ken. (Yutha, do you have a photo of us?) Well, strictly and anatomically speaking, he isn't exactly like Ken. See City of Love above for clarification on that count.

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17 comments:

Linder said...

Go ahead and forgive. (It's noble.) But then plot your revenge... {eg}

Julie said...

Dude, your scanner has ceased to be? It's an ex-scanner? That is so sad...

Julie

yutha said...

Hey! In my defense it was 1994 - okay, I have no defense. What do you want me to leave you in my will? Name it - it's the least I can do. Brinky - same goes for you. Forgive me sisters for I have sinned. I'll look for a photo of you and the Doug and SCAN it to you because MY scanner works - nyah....

A Novel Woman said...

Julie, HAHAHAHA!!! You are singing to the bleedin' choir invisible, dude!

Anyhow, owning an ex-scanner means I can't show you my passport photo, one in which, it will please you to know, I too resemble a connoisseur of cat dishes (and I don't mean porcelain.)

Linder, victory will be mine. Did I mention there were pumps dyed to match?

A Novel Woman said...

Yutha, I wondered when you'd chime in.

I was going to use the excuse "it was the 80s" but oh, wait, oh IT WAS THE 90s!!

All those years we tortured you, and you finally got the ultimate revenge. Sweet, little sistah. Sweet.

A Novel Woman said...

Oh, and Yutha. In your will?

You KNOW what I want.

kc dyer said...

I LOVE this picture!

It leaves me, with the Pythons, pining for the fjords...[g]

~kc

A Novel Woman said...

kc, I wish I had a shot of the bow in the back of it. It was bigger than...bigger than....it was bigger than my BUTT. I'm talking HUGE.

yutha said...

I bet I can find a picture of the back of the dress. If it makes you feel any better the bow on the back of MY dress was big too (and on the sleeves - God, what was I thinking??)

yutha said...

Hey - I just realized I said it was 1994 - it was actually 1992! So it was very close to the 80's - that's my story and I'm sticking to it....

Bush Babe said...

Dear Lord Pam... that's gotta be worth a round trip to Australia, I reckon! Heavens... and it wasn't even the 80's. If you and your sisters can survive that, Jeanie and I can survive our current make-up debate...

Gives me hope!
:-)
BB

A Novel Woman said...

BB, I just went along with whatever my sister told me to do. Hence the Barbie/Pageant Hair, foundation and makeup done at the salon, contact lenses, push-up bra (no wait, that was for the groom.)

Anonymous said...

I'll take "Monty Python for $200, Alex.
"Pining for the fjords"
What is bereft of life, definitely deceased, ceased to be, kicked the bucket, bleedin' demised?

These are apparently "old" jokes: check out page A17 of today's (Nov. 14th)Gazette.
Cheers, SpankyPants 182

A Novel Woman said...

Spankypants 182, if these jokes are old, then what does that make us?

Don't answer that.

Says she, who used to lie sprawled on the basement floor to listen to Monty Python vinyl albums.

Sincerely,

Spankypants 149

Anonymous said...

And p.s. , I LOVE the SIZE of those sleeves!! Sheesh!
Hard to believe we dressed like that with big hair, big shoulders (ooh, remember the should pads? ugh), and big platforms under our shoes. Thank goodness we all outgrew the Napoleonic complex!
So, what that we are wearing today that we'll look back at in 20 years and wonder how we could ever have appeared in public wearing THAT? What should we save to embarrass our children even MORE that we already will? Wait, don't answer that because I think, "depends" may be a noun in that case and not a verb.
SpankyPants 182

Rose said...

Those poofy sleeves are AWE-SOME.

--Rosie

Andrea said...
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