Bridezilla. The term describes a woman who is somewhere between a blushing bride and, well, the movie monster Godzilla.
I've seen the show "Bridezillas" on Women's Entertainment. But I have been in five weddings and never seen a real live one. Until last weekend, that is. In the days leading up to the wedding I got to watch a longtime friend go from diva to dominator. It wasn't pretty.
Getting on her bad side included, but was not limited to, asking questions: Who is doing our hair? How much do we tip? Can I wear these shorter heels? What time did you say we had to be there? Can I miss the happy hour?
We've been friends for 14 years. She'd always been fabulous - the popular girl who knows it all but is so cool you love her anyway. So I expected the wedding would be all about the glam. What I did not anticipate were all the rules. And the threats: Do this or I will see you in the audience. And e-mails - 174, and they're still coming. Half of them had to do with a hairstyle.
Then there was the last-minute conference call. Picture this: nine bridesmaids on cell phones calling in from all across the country the week before the wedding. Important decisions had to be made. Would we get French manicures and pedicures or just go clear? Were we willing to pay $60 to a M.A.C. make up artist? And don't forget to buy that 12-inch weave for the red-carpet, Jessica Simpson look. We were on the phone for an hour.
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By the time the wedding day arrived, everyone was exhausted and on edge. No one, including her, had gotten any real sleep.
When we weren't eating, we were drinking to ease the stress (I'd like to give a shout-out to Patron). And when we weren't drinking, we were preparing for the wedding, and when we weren't doing that, we were arguing. There were arguments among friends, arguments among the bridesmaids and groomsmen, arguments between the bride and whoever was in her way that minute.
Just hours before her wedding we were all in a daze, waiting for instructions. The horrifying hair appointments started at 6 a.m. and dragged on until noon. Then the make up sessions started and went on until 4 p.m., just a half-hour before we needed to meet at the museum for the ceremony.
We all gathered in the small bridal dressing room. It was quiet. Some of us were hungry, most of us were sleepy, and a lot of us were just ready to get it over with.
She started to get dressed. She slipped on her white strapless, corseted dress. Maybe it was so tight it squeezed out that Godzilla within. But once the dress was on, all that was left was our blushing bride. Her stress, her attitude, our attitudes - they all disappeared.
With last-minute details yet to come - the hair, the boob check, the shoes - it all came together in that room. The petty fights, the rules, the threats no longer mattered. It all fell away.
But it wasn't a smooth walk down the aisle just yet. The guest book was missing. The wedding coordinator was useless. The photographer was late. We forgot to spray on bug repellent.
But despite all the problems, she wasn't a Bridezilla after all. She was calm, she was smiling, and she was the prettiest bride I have ever seen.
