Like Lady Gaga, my coworker got engaged on
Valentine’s Day. I am now forced by circumstances to listen to her plan her
wedding. My coworker, I mean. Not Lady Gaga. While this has the potential to
become very, very boring, right now it’s sort of interesting to listen to her debate
the merits of this florist versus that caterer.
She has a couple of
sisters, and they’re dying to know what kind of bridesmaid dresses she’s going
to pick. I’m sure Lady Gaga’s potential bridesmaids are also curious, and
probably rightly so. Pretty sure they’re going to end up dressed like grilled
cheese sandwiches, wearing traffic cones on their heads. All designed by
McQueen. I guess that’s the chance you take when you sign up to be in Lady
Gaga’s wedding.
I’ve been in a couple
of weddings, and had my own, so when it comes to bridesmaid dresses, I have Thoughts.
This is an area where you should tread carefully: you are picking out what
someone else will wear, and unless your bridesmaids are Rockettes, it will be
something that has to look good on a range of body shapes and sizes.
This is
notoriously hard to do, and you risk epically pissing off at least one person. There
will always be someone who looks horrible in what you choose, and you have to
decide if you can live with what they could to do you dress-wise if they ask
you to be their bridesmaid one day. It isn't necessarily the worst idea to make sure anyone who looks awful
in your dress is already married.
I have some friendly
advice to share from my own experiences and conversations with friends through
the years.
Don’t try to get something “everyone can wear again!”
This is easily the most
persistent myth about bridesmaid dresses—that what your girls wear will be sufficiently un-bridesmaid-like that
everyone will be able to wear it to a fancy party down the road. I’m pretty
sure Eve said that about the fig leaves she picked out (she might also be the
only woman who was ever right).
I promise, no matter
what, there is no way anyone will ever think this dress is anything other than
exactly what it was. I had a friend who even went to the department store and
bought dresses off the rack from the fancy department for her attendants. It
made no difference. Once a dress is worn in a wedding, it’s like it picks up an
odor that emanates from it for the rest of time: anyone who gets near it immediately
knows what it was originally. Don’t ask me why, but it’s true. The last thing
anyone wants to hear at their company holiday party is, “Cute dress—did you wear it in a wedding?”
Skip the excessively twee accessories
I had a friend who got
married on rainy day, and had to provide umbrellas for the wedding party. She
found someplace that would rent umbrellas, and got cute ones that matched her
flowers. This is fine. If you need to
provide something functional, and you can do it in a fun way, great.
I’m talking about dressing
everyone up like Little Bo Peep and giving them shepherd’s crooks, or worse,
actual sheep to herd, with darling floral garlands around their fluffy necks—and in
case you read this and thought, “Ooohhhh…heyyyy…” let me just say right now,
NO. Your guests will not thank you if they step in sheep poop in their good
shoes, and the sheep will eat the garlands off each other’s necks.
If a bridesmaid dress
reminds anyone of anything worn at the Wilkes’ barbeque, the box social dance
in Oklahoma!, or something from the Royal Ascot scene in My Fair Lady, skip it.
Filter based on price
Traditionally
bridesmaids pay for their own attire. Try to remember this when you’re
shopping. No one wants to pay $800 for something they’ll never wear again. If
it were me, $200 is about as much as I’d be willing to pay. If you just cannot let go of the $500 dresses, it’s
nice to offer to pay the difference. Yes, they get to keep the dresses, but
really, they will never wear them again.
Unless like one of my friends they’re invited to a, “Come in your old
bridesmaid dress” party.
If you can relinquish
control (not one of my strengths, but everyone is different) and give everyone a
color or a pattern and tell them to find a dress, it can work. One friend told
us to wear black dresses—she didn’t care what they looked like, or what style,
as long as they were all black. The result was three women wearing dresses they
already owned, that flattered them, but matched after a fashion.
It’s challenging to exert
your will over others—in a situation in which you are completely within your
rights to exert your will—without turning into Kim Jong-Il, demanding everyone
have the same haircut or whatever. But remember that as much of an honor as
you’re conveying on them, asking them to be in your wedding, they’re honoring
you by agreeing to do so. And if I’ve managed to convince you of nothing else,
remember: they will never wear it again. I
swear.