post-wedding wtf

Alternatively titled, “COVID BRIDE: How to Make Your Friends Prove They Love You & Other Stories”

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Two years, one global pandemic, a postponed party date, a mildly spontaneous small ceremony and 41 Jell-O shots later and — we’re done. We’re married married (and hungover hungover).

I don’t entirely know what to do with myself now, because I am a millennial woman for whom a house or kids is not in the immediate future. HAHAHA BUT REALLY. Do I just … go back to focusing my energy on planning long weekend trips out of Columbus, Ohio multiple times a year just to feel alive? Do I delete my Pinterest? What do wedded people Pinterest? When will I stop getting sponsored Instagram ads for the Little White Dress collection by Jenny Yoo? WHO AM I NOW.

I spent two years planning this thing, which is I guess kind of standard but also a little elongated and entirely blown up by the pandemic of it all. I spent eight months in party-planning purgatory, after we had technically gotten married and before we got to pretend like we were getting married all over again.

And after two years of saving Instagrams of white dresses, pinning “minimalist bridal hairstyles down,” stressing over when it was time to reach out to which vendor, wondering if I would ever get to see 60 of my closest friends and family in one room together ever again, it is all just, like, over? Insert the “Veep” meme of Julia Louis-Dreyfus saying what the fuck? Do I rewatch “Veep”? I’ve got the time because LIKE WHAT DO I DO NOW.

Around the time I was reading a lot of think pieces about how women are expected to give up their entire identity for a man with the outdated, patriarchal “tradition” of taking a man’s last name, I was reading a lot of think pieces about how women are taught from a young age that this “wedding,” this literal, like, 12 hours of your entire life, is the Most Important Thing you will ever do. And because we treat women this way, and we are constantly throwing wedding magazines at them filled with scenarios only a Kardashian could ever afford, or neglecting to tell them that half the inspo they see on Pinterest is faked by wedding photographers and magazines etc. (it’s true, I saw a TikTok about it), there is a thing called “post-wedding blues,” because then the women don’t know what they are supposed to do after the Most Important 12 Hours of Their Life is OVER and they are maybe only 30 years old and can only watch “Succession” once a week now.

And, listen. I don’t think that was the Most Important, Two-Part Combined 14-ish Hours of My Life. I love my husband, a lot, and it is certainly in the Top 10. But us putting our partnership on paper to appease other people (society) shouldn’t make that day the Most Important Thing.

Because shit, I would love to rent a pretty-ass space, fill it with flowers and gold accents, set a velvet and satin dress code and make 41 Jell-O shots for all my best friends, like, once a year. Why just once in my entire life? And yes this is me offering!!!!!

Anyway, feelings.

There was a moment during my bachelorette weekend (in-between Lonely Island videos at 1:23 a.m., after my bridal party had each presented a PowerPoint to me about how much they love me as if driving 90 minutes into northern Virginia so we could all look like hot bitches at a winery wasn’t proof enough) that I looked around the room and thought about how it was likely that we would never do this again. I will go on trips with my sisters, and I will go on trips with my other three sisters, but we wouldn’t all six be on a trip together, probably ever again. Not even because they don’t like each other or anything, I actually really lucked out in that I am an extremely picky person and don’t have many friends aka an Enneagram 3×4, so at this point it’s the ride or dies and they all know and/or are friendly with each other. But just because that is how it is. And what a weird thing.

(Weirder still, we all still remembered complementary parts of “I’m On A Boat (ft. T-Pain).”)

Now I don’t know when I will see everyone again, let alone in an environment where it is appropriate to yell, “TEQUILA SHOTS?” and at least seven people agree that, yes, tequila shots.

I had a similar feeling at the party. The sad feels were a little extra exaggerated because over the last six weeks, I had spent more time with a lot of my best friends in one room, at one bar, at one wedding and then another, than I have in the [redacted] years since I graduated college. One of my best friends got married and I was in it, then two weeks later I had my bachelorette and she was one of my bridesmaids, and then two weeks after that we had our Most Important Party. It was a lot of overlap as far as exclusive invitees and people who were down to listen to me gush about Selena Gomez after two glasses of wine goes. (#SPEAKEASYFOREVER)

I guess what I am trying to say is that after however many days two years is (no time to math), seeing all of my favorite people—some who have known me for two decades, and who know too much; some who knew me in college and I somehow did not cry too much or nag them about deadlines too much to scare them away; some I met after college, and who were maybe like, “Why are those eight millennial women absolutely losing their shit to ‘Sugar, We’re Goin Down’ when it’s time to clean up”—in the same room at the same time was more special to me than what I was a wearing (a sparkly dress from Reformation) or what the decor looked like (fucking glam, okay) or planning whether we needed to cut a cake (nah) or toss a bouquet (where?) or do at least three obligatory dances (bye bye bye).

So, because I am clearly still processing the post-wedding whatevers, and I recentlyish watched the therapy episode of “Ted Lasso,” I thought I would write a therapeutic listicle to give some expert wedding advice that literally no one has asked me for.

FUCK TRADITIONS

The first rule of Wife Club is don’t talk about Wife Club, and the second rule is don’t tell anyone how much weddings actually cost until they have a diamond on their finger and are forced to throw one.

My dudes, it is absurd. It is a child’s college education. It is a luxury vehicle. It is a mortgage. It is many, many PS5s. I still don’t have time to math so maybe those calculations are a little off and I’m just listing expensive things, but bottom line—it is too much fucking money for a party that is mostly for other people, or to fulfill stupid ideals that someone (men) made up like 8000 years ago (someone check my math) when women were mostly gifted to men or whatever the hell.

Weddings are DUMB expensive. My advice here is plagiarized—”Does it spark joy?” because if not, don’t fucking do it.

Need inspo? Here are some things that we did not do and would not do again, given the opportunity:

• Have an engagement party or bridal shower. We were already asking our loved ones to travel a bunch for the bachelorette and party, how much more celebrating of yourself do you need to do, you narcissist??
• Have a religious ceremony, or involve religion at all except for when I played “God is a woman” as I was getting ready or when I wore a full Fenty face for both occasions.
• Do any of the “giving away” of the bride … it’s this thing where you are supposed to make it a whole thing where you’re, like, “handed off” to the groom. It reeks of “Hello this is your problem now,” so no and I think fucking not. I walked myself right over to where I was supposed to stand while my dad shook Ryan’s hand. Done.
• Hire a DJ. That’s what iPads and bluetooth speakers are for, my fellow frugals who probably already own those things because we’re millennials, they do not cost thousands of dollars or play any songs you don’t want to hear. I cannot promise that your fiancé will not try to put too much of that womp womp wordless techno sleepy stuff on there and try to pass off “Love On Top” as EIGHTH-TO-LAST, though.
• Bouquet toss, or the weird garter thing. I honestly think that’s just … stupid? And somehow sexist?
• Put cake in each other’s faces. I’m wearing a $1,000 dress and have about half that much worth of makeup on my face, you think I am letting any mess come at it?
• Hair and makeup. I just didn’t trust someone who is clearly still using Kat Von D to do a face I have beaten every single day of this pandemmy, okay? (I did get a blowout before the party because I felt too lazy to wash my hair, straighten and style it.)
• Hire a wedding planner. Because this sometimes costs as much as the day itself, woof. (Day-of coordinators, especially if they come with the venue, are clutch and cheaper and it’s not a big deal if you’re a Type A planner like me.)
• Do any of the first, mother, father dancing. Not important to us, and most people are probably ready to hit the open bar at that point, anyway.
• Party favors. People. Will throw. Them away.
• Make a registry. Ryan and I have lived together for more than six years, please keep your paper towel holder from Crate & Barrel. And people still gave us money anyway, which is what we all want, don’t lie to yourself.
• Do a dumb send off. Sparklers are lame, I’m sorry, they’re lame. My send off was, “WE’RE MEETING AT THE BARS IN 30 MINUTES.”

PLAN FOR PHOTOS

Okay, so this is actually helpful advice. Plan plan plan your photography.

There was actually a time in our planning where Ryan and I were like, “Ugh. Do we HAVE to have a photographer?” because we are people who don’t care about photos of themselves that much and who only approve photos of themselves that they’ve taken themselves, respectively.

AND YES YOU DO. AND YOU HAVE TO HAVE A GOOD ONE.

We found our photographer, Jenna, after weeks and weeks of stalking Instagrams and haplessly Googling “cool wedding photographers in Columbus”. We didn’t want anyone who did too much cheesy posing. I didn’t want anyone who was doing a very “trendy” millennial thing where you just put brown or blue on top of stuff. I have all the VSCO filters, I can do that myself. Plus, part of her style was to shoot on film, and that looked really fucking cool and exactly like the party we wanted.

I was also very nervous about getting “professional” photos taken, because I tend to be insecure and the body dysmorphia runs rampant (what else is new from a girl who grew up with the beauty standards of the early 2000s?????). But when I tell you I will never take more badass photos in my LIFE….

Anyway, the (right) wedding photographer is so worth it. The right photographer will split the dates with you, will flex the schedule any way you want, will let you add an extra hour two days before your party because she knows you want hot pics™️ with your ladies. As the anti-vaxxers like to say, “Do your research!” and find the perfect one.

Once you’ve found your photog, it’s also important to plan around the actual picture-taking. They will help you do this, of course, but I think I just didn’t quite understand, like, how much time it would take and when that time would be … if that makes sense.

We didn’t do any engagement shots or a first look, so after the ceremony, we had to take all of our couples’ portraits as well as photos with both sides of our family. And that took HOURS. Not anything at all on her part, she was efficient and they all turned out great, which is a huge compliment from someone who hates her photo taken. I just hadn’t baked “two hours of photos” into the time we had rented the venue, and so the rest of the night FLEW by. I wish I had rented it another hour or two, just to have more time enjoying each others’ company.

But because of that, I knew to be more strategic with photos at the party. We didn’t do a lot of the “traditional” bridal party pics, because our bridal party’s responsibilities had significantly dwindled since we downsized the venue/party/already had the ceremony. But I still added an hour to make sure I had time for glam group shots and sentimental 1:1s.

And then the rest of the time was SHOTS SHOTS SHOTSHOTSHOTSHOTS. I wanted to wait to post this post until I got the pics back and let me tell you—WORTH THE WAIT. But that’s another tip: Get some guests to take not-terrible photos! And find you some friends who know to make a shared album! You can’t have mine because I don’t have that many or like to share!

Your photog’s photos will be BOMB ASS but you’ll have to wait a painstaking month or more (the aforementioned best friend who got married a month before my party JUST got her full album back); and you will want some easily edited/filterable pics of you to post the day after to brag about how all your friends are hot and cool and hungover.

AFTERPAY YOUR OUTFITS

Here are the outfits you will need after you get engaged, at minimum:

• Engagement outfit
• Bridal shower outfit
• Bachelorette weekend outfit(s)
• Rehearsal dinner and/or day-before drinks at an aesthetically pleasing rooftop patio outfit
• Getting ready outfit (+ XXX amount for your bridesmaids, easy math)
• Actual Wedding Dress
• Reception outfit
• Honeymoon outfit(s) (Do people wear white on their honeymoons? I have not had the brain space to plan one yet (see last part of listicle).)

Unfortunately, I am a bitch who likes to Instagram, so having my main character moment(s) and photos that I could post until I annoy all of my friends and followers away was important to me. I am also someone who wears black 93% of the time so building an arsenal of white OOTDs was, like, a very adventurous thing.

I am also not here to tell you to shop responsibly, because fuck it. You will only get ONE four-day bachelorette weekend. You will only get ONE reception. You only live ONCE unless you are a cat and then you do this all NINE TIMES.

Not unlike our queen Lizzie McGuire, I did wind up being an outfit repeater. This is partly because by the time it came for the day-before drinks, it was only two weeks after my bachelorette and your girl was FRIED from spending eight months in party-planning purgatory and also four days into a FUCKING COLD.

And also, I am not sure who has money to have a wedding, let alone TWO. I thought we COVID brides were all sticking together with this splitting nonsense, and that we were simply splitting the same wedding???? Then I saw bitches out here in ENTIRELY DIFFERENT dresses for Infinity Wedding and End Wedding. We did not talk about this! We did not discuss that I would need to go to BHLDN twice and pay a car’s down payment worth on a dress AGAIN.

Bestie, you do you. I had a SINGULAR VISION and though it was mildly modified for the ceremony, I fully intended to bring it home for the party.

I did kind of wish I had a different “wedding” dress, because it was about 60 degrees warmer on our party date, but in the end I’m glad I just paid the $100 for dry cleaning the pink champagne spots off from the ceremony, because I wound up changing into a party dress for most of the night, anyway.

Here’s what I wore and where I got it, for absolutely no reason other than making this blog post even longer.

• Engagement outfit. Did not do.
• Bridal shower outfit. Did not do again.
• Bachelorette weekend outfit(s). Here is the thing: We need to talk about the Laura Ingalls Effect, because what in the little house on this fucking prairie is wrong with people? WHY must every sleeve billow? WHERE are you going with all of that smocking? HOW many tiers is too many tiers on this goddamn piece of fabric??? I am not Free People hive, so the boho of it all was just, like, such a challenge. Plus, while Googling “white dress” in the high summer, I was forced to reckon with the Season of Linen, ugh. In the end, by which I mean no fewer than 17 online returns later, I was able to find REGULAR ASS white midi moments (Revolve! The influencers are right!) and some satin (Zara bodysuit, come through) and a Millennial Victorian (corset-y conservative in the front, backless party in the… back) midi dress of my “my American Girl doll was Samantha Parkington” dreams (Reformation, as if you didn’t already know from IG). I have no regrets.
• Day-before drinks at an aesthetically pleasing rooftop patio outfit. The “my first crush was human Casper in ‘Casper’” Reformation dress made a return because it cost two phone payments. I have no regrets.
• Getting ready outfit. As I am an alternative, unaverage bride, I did not want a white robe. I got a Glossier pink satin one instead and bought some terracotta-rosy ones for my sisters, from Amazon (sorry). The champagne coupes might have been plastic but the photos look AMAZING.
• Actual Wedding Dress. If you’re reading this blog (Still? Wow, I love my fans), then you have seen my dress. It is a minimalist, no frills, no sequins, satin-crepe long-sleeve dress, with a boatneck and a lace-trimmed deep v back. And also a slit that was like YOU COULD HAVE TANNED when I sat down. It was the perfect amount of heavy and fitted at the waist and was—not to be dramatic—extremely classy bitch, winter wedding edition. I am also not not self-absorbed enough to say that you know what? It WAS a little Meghan Markle-y. It was on sale (!) when I got it from BHLDN, and only one of three (!) left in my size. She has TIMING. Also, I wore chic white flats from Everlane because I am a cool normal person who is incredibly prone to foot cramps so could not risk any discomfort. (Also I never learned how to wear heels because I didn’t like being taller than boys. #feminist)
• Reception outfit. Reformation had a sale six weeks before I had a party. I could not buy this sparkly dress fast enough?! The girls were certainly out but, re: the part where you only do this ONCE. Points for feeling like this was a Gatsby party thrown by someone who has actually read it (three times) and bonus points for it being STRETCHY.
• Honeymoon outfit(s). Buffering.

PICK A FEW THINGS TO OBSESS OVER

Somehow this is turning into six listicles in one, lol, so I will try to not list out things here. But basically, wedding planning to TOO DAMN COMPLICATED. There is too much to think about, and then you have to think about what all the other people are telling you to think about, and then you think about if there are things you haven’t thought about. The only way I could compartmentalize this was to really prioritize the big and little things I wanted.

An open bar was important to us, as two OU grads with many friends who are OU alumni. We were able to get a SHIT TON of alcohol with the help of Ryan’s family, and, shockingly, have a SHIT TON still left over if anyone wants to hang out.

We also wanted to include our cats in some way, DUH, and my arTISTE sister made us a cute-ass sign with the cocktails we had named after them. We’re going to print it out and hang it above our bar cart with the SHIT TON of alcohol we somehow still have, seriously, what is everyone doing next weekend?

A few other dumb detail-y things I really wanted to do, for photos or aesthetic, so sue me: A (small) champagne tower for the ceremony, and shelves of champagne flutes for guests to grab as they arrived for the party (Do you see a theme?). Flowers were also really important to me, because they are pretty and I love pretty. I also knew they are pretty expensive, and so I thought it was only fair that I paid for this thing I really wanted with my own money. (We went dutch on our specific things (suit, dress) and somehow managed to pay for everything else from our almost-empty joint account!!!!)

Some things we didn’t care about, and so we didn’t include or de-prioritized: A DJ, a photo booth (we did have some Polaroid cameras we left on a bar cart with a sign that said “Take a shot” because we are who we are), party favors or assigned seating, a flower girl or ring bearer, making our bridal party do dumb dancing entrances (I would actually rather die), going crazy with table settings or decorations—people get up and get moving, so, yes, plates are pretty, but go with something simple and put that money where people are actually going to hang out, like a lounge area.

PLAN THE HONEYMOON LATER

I’m sorry, but you must have two full brains if you have time to plan a huge vacation on top of the Most Important Day(s) of Your Life. We decided early on that we wouldn’t take a honeymoon right away because, um, there’s a global pandemic …………. but I am glad to have the break and the ability to turn it into a big anniversary trip or something, otherwise. Instead, we spent a long weekend at a hotel downtown, but still somehow managed to stop by the house every day to see the cats.

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Okay. I didn’t really know where this post was going to go when I started it, a feeling not unlike planning a wedding in a pandemic. I have a lot more thoughts: Why you should marry someone who never fights with you, like, ever over the course of planning this; How the Airbnb we wanted to stay in for the party weekend was infested with bugs; How tired and sweaty you should prepare to be after just (1) dress shopping appointment; Why you should surround yourself exclusively with the kind of people whose definition of a good time at a bachelorette party is leaving the bar at 11:30 after (3) shots a piece then going back to the uninfested Airbnb to order pizza and watch a 17-minute compilation video on YouTube of Bill Hader breaking character on “SNL” even though none of you really watch “SNL”?; Did I mention you should marry someone who puts 5 Taylor Swift songs on the playlist without being told to? Anyway.

For now I leave you with this advice: Throw whatever kind of wedding that you fucking want.

(And let us know if you want some cab. We have so much of it.)