I’ve never thrown a wedding, but I have plenty of friends who have, which means that I know how much they cost. I have seen the bills, or at least heard about them – the thousand-dollar limo rides and the $120/plate dinners. I know about the flower arrangements that total more than the salary of my first real job and the dress that cost three times my monthly rent… in Manhattan.
There are reasons for the high prices, or so I’m told. Lace that has been hand-made and imported from Italy. Orchids flown in from Hawaii. Signature cocktails inspired in Indonesia. Once you get over the shock, you might get a little depressed. The accoutrement at some weddings is more well-traveled than the guests.
But I get it. I really do. A lot of people put off getting married until their mid-30s or even early 40s. They spent a decade working on their careers and finding the right person with whom to spend eternity. Who’s to fault them for booking an eight-piece band and a DJ? Why shouldn’t they arrive by horse-drawn carriage? At the end of the day, don’t we all enjoy the top-shelf liquor and raw bar? Yes, we do.
I am far from the only one fixated on the astronomical cost of weddings. I know that for a fact because there are multiple television shows dedicated solely to the subject. I don’t even own a TV and yet I’ve seen hours upon hours of footage of otherwise happy couples coming to grips with the price of a three-tier, two-flavor, buttercream frosted cake. I have seen them grapple with seating arrangements like they preparing for nuclear peace talks. I live for the moment when the couple just gives up on their budget and their plan and they start doing truly ridiculous things, like renting a popcorn machine.
As guests, we don’t know for sure what all the line items cost. But we’ve seen the shows, so we have a good idea. We, too, are familiar with the rules: It’s a wedding, so everything is extra. The vendors all jack their rates double or triple because they know the couple will pay it. If there is any hesitation whatsoever, these business owners point to their reviews and testimonials and make ominous predictions about what might happen if the bride goes with a cheaper, unverified service provider. Does she really want to spend her special day worried about whether or not the flowers will be delivered on time? No, she does not. She has corn to pop.
But while many guests may be wondering about the cost of a wedding once we are in the ballroom, no one dares ask about it outright. No one, for example, goes around pricing out the venue and asking what the break was for having the party on a Friday instead of Saturday. No one questions the need for 12 bridesmaids. No one asks how much soup service for 200 or passed hors d’oeuvre costs. It’s rude, for one thing. And our mouths are full of canapes for another.
Besides, it’s none of our business. It’s not our day and it’s not our money. I don’t have any reason for writing about it, except for one little thing: I go to a lot of weddings. I have spent many a Friday evening standing in a corner, minding my business, an unattended lady patiently waiting for the Cupid Shuffle to be played. I have no date to accompany me to this lavish affair, let a wedding of my own on the horizon. I make small talk – about the trips I take and the work I do – with people who seem to feel a little sorry for me for being alone… and a little skeptical that I could be living the life I say I do. I mention a three-week trip to Thailand and suddenly these people who are too polite to comment on the extravagance of not one, but two, custom-made dog tuxedos want to talk numbers. How much did the flight cost? How does a woman on a writer’s salary pay for it? Does she even pay for it herself?
The irony is not lost on me. We are standing in the shadow of a $2000 flower arrangement and people want to know how I managed to swing 21 plates of Pad Thai. They are eating $3 mini quiches and they want to see my receipt for a camel ride in Marrakesh. In half an hour, we will dance to Top 40 hits played by a part-time DJ who charges extra after 10 p.m., but I am the one who needs to break down the cost of an Airbnb in Old Dubrovnik during high season. Where is the videographer when you need him? I’d like someone to get a good shot of my face. The look I am giving is worth at least a million bucks.
Of course not all questions are created equal. I can tell the difference between genuine curiosity and a fact-finding mission. I know when someone is making small talk and when they are trying to goad me into revealing that I am an heiress or a trust fund kid. I do not resent the former, only the latter. Still, both are pretty rude. Why is the cost of the bride’s reception dress off limits but my train ticket to Vienna fair game? A lot of times I try to end the conversation with a wink. “I can afford to travel because I never had to pay for a wedding, amirite????”
I’m joking, of course – but only a little. To me, it really is true. I’ve outfitted myself for an entire season on what some women drop on a veil. I could rent an apartment for months and months on end for the cost of renting a reception hall for a single night. I can eat for an entire year for the amount of money people spend on a three-course meal for all their friends and family. I took a safari through southern Africa for about the same price as a mid-range wedding cake. I’ll admit the safari wasn’t very good, but you know what? Neither was the cake.
For the record, I have nothing against weddings, expensive or not. Maybe one day I’ll even have one myself. My point isn’t that they’re frivolous or wasteful or garish. They are not. There is nothing wrong with two people splashing out and celebrating the rest of their lives. In fact, it seems to me that throwing a lavish party celebrating love is about one of the most generous things a couple can do with their disposable income. Let me be the first to toast them both, particularly if they sprang for the open bar.
I’m picking on weddings because they are the clearest target. It is in a hotel ballroom where worlds collide: the traditionalists and the beatniks, the conventional and the non-conformists. This is where our differences are on full display. This is where people like me are sometimes made to feel that I am less of a person because I don’t buy expensive cakes. This is where I have to walk a fine line between saying, “I’m successful and independent and I like it that way,” and being a shrew with a suitcase. This is where the double standard rears its ugly head – because everyone wants to check my receipts from Australia but no one ever questions convention, even when it comes with a five or six-figure bill.
With wedding season upon us, I offer a gentle reminder. Religion, politics, money: these are not the things of idle chit chat. Don’t make jokes about the bride being bossy or the groom having a lurid past. Don’t give a toast unless you’ve been asked. Respect the reception playlist. Drink moderately and take a cab. Be polite to the host and their guests – all of them. At the end of the day, this is a party. If you don’t want to go – don’t. But if you do, please be at least as well behaved as the dogs.
Here, here!!