Oh, you guys. It has happened again.
You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?
I’m certainly overly familiar with it.
I’m going to be a bridesmaid. Again.
How many times have you been a bridesmaid, Verity?:
- 4 ½ (don’t ask).
Congratulations!
- Why thank you, I am quite chuffed.
Now, while I am honoured to be honoured in such a way, I take this appointment seriously. Maybe too seriously for a volunteer position. It’s like I need to prove that I am the right lady for the job. That the bride is getting her moneys worth.* So when I was asked to be a bridesmaid the other day, I made sure the bride understood my commitment level.
I sent her this text:
“Just checking in on day one of my assignment. It should be noted here that I do not believe in being a lazy bridesmaid and consider my position a working one and not merely figurehead. At your service, Bride-to-Be. Haha.
But actually I am being serious.”
And I was.
But as it happens, the church is booked, the invitations are in the mail, the reception has been lined up, the colour scheme arranged…
and there seems to be nothing left to do.
So maybe I am going to be useless after all. My position will become more of a title than a job. I fear I’m going to turn into one of those lesser royals who is known only for their appalling choice of dress and hat (No offence Princess Beatrice. You seem lovely and we were born in the same year. Solidarity sister).
The other problem of course, is that as a figurehead bridesmaid, I will continue to be subject to many a delightful inquiry** from loving family and friends.
One notable incident occurred a few years ago. My beloved friend, who was 9 years old at the time, wondered:
“Verity?” he asked in that sweet little boy voice.
“Yes, dear?”
“Have you heard of the movie about the lady who was a bridesmaid lots of times?”
“Oh, you mean 27 dresses?”
“Yeah. Well I was just thinking… that’s you. It is! How many dresses have you got now?”
Let’s stop the reminiscing for a second and analyse that.
Firstly, is it terrible that I have somehow led a young boy to believe that my existence may be summed up by a Katherine Heigl movie?
Secondly, 27 Dresses? Really? I would prefer he say,
“Oh Verity, have you heard of the movie True Grit. You’re just like the lead girl. You don’t need no man or pretty dress to headline your own movie. You’d be able to survive in the Wild Wild West.”
Thirdly, now it’s got me thinking: am I a Katherine Heigl or a Mattie Ross? Surely I’d more suited to riding around the desert on a horse than performing predictable meet-cutes involving heels and a NYC manhole.***
Please don’t stick me in a romcom. I beg of you!
Now I’m over thinking it.
Ok, calm down. I am not Katherine Heigl. I only have 4.5 dresses. And anyway I like bridesmaiding. Being a bridesmaid is rewarding, enjoyable and lovely and getting a new dress is never a bad thing….but….
Oh lawsie, I hope I don’t make it to 27.
*If you are thinking of going into bridesmaiding for the money, don’t. The pay is terrible. However it looks excellent on one’s resume and you can add Bridesmaid to your official title:
Verity Grace. BA. BM x 4.5
** Sample interaction with relatives Uncle Tim and Aunt Betsy:
“Gee you’re often a bridesmaid aren’t you, Verity? Well you know what they say, don’t you? Don’t you? What do they say?”
“No, I do not know what ‘they say,'” I will reply deadpan.
“Oh, you know what they say. Always a bridesmaid…”
“Always wearing killer heels?”
“Oh you’re no fun, Verity. Maybe that’s why no one’s picked you up yet.” Uncle Tim laughs raucously.
“Oh don’t be cruel, Tim!” Says Aunt Betsy with a smile.
*** Pretty sure I saw that plot in a JLo film not 27 Dresses. You see my point though.
The Accomplished Woman 