The weddings theme is due since it’s summer and a lot of people get married in summer.
At least I think that because my husband and I get all these invitations to weddings.
So many that I have the feeling it’s become like a hobby of ours to go to weddings in the summer.
People go snorkelling, we attend weddings in summer.
I love weddings.
I mean, I hate them.
I always hated the idea of getting married.
So much that, in my childhood, I had vowed to never get married, mainly because I never wanted to get into one of those tutu-filled, cream cake-looking dresses.
While my girlfriends dreamed of the perfect cake, the perfect dress and the perfect flower arrangements (never mind the groom), I frowned upon every single thing surrounding a wedding and condemned the day I could possibly change my mind.
Alas, that day came!
With tutu-dress and all.
It surprised me like a hammer hitting me between my eyes.
But this isn’t about my wedding.
It’s about other weddings.
The ones you, I, we, have inevitably been invited to – some of us more than once – and have attended with or against our will.
And after one too many invitations to a distant relative’s or a friend of a friend’s wedding, you kind of notice a pattern of the guests that come, of the things that happen, and, in some cases – as in mine – you could use that pattern for a scenario of yet another Big Fat (non-greek) wedding film, book, or …a blog post.
For fun, of course.
Scenarios for weddings and guests:
I. Weddings between poor people
The Wedding attire
Colorful, flowery frocks, beige tuxedos, panama hats, and sandals.
The bride wears her grandmother’s dress which is polo-neck closed at the front, closed at the back, long-sleeved, and with a long train. The bosom part of the dress is quite baggy, due to the difference in cup-sizes (AA for the bride and DD for the grandma).
But the bulging belly of the heavily pregnant bride makes up for the space right below the breast area.
The groom is dressed in beige suit and white leather sandals.
100% of the guests is made up of pretty much the whole village.
Half of it is relatives of the bride.
The other half is relatives of the groom.
Half of the guests don’t have front teeth, the other half are half-drunk before the couple has even arrived in the church.
Everyone knows each other very well and most of the relatives owe each other money, favours, or both.
Half way through the wedding a bloody fight erupts.
It’s usually between two males, something like the second uncle and the uncle of the bride’s third cousin.
One of them, irrelevant who, loses a tooth, and that sobers up the crowd a little.
They shake it with a few more shots of locally-made, heavy liquor and kiss each other in a deeply respectful manner.
All is forgotten, the party resumes in an ever bigger crescendo.
Kids of all size, form, and age have gathered, shrieking, shouting, running around.
The village’s stray dogs, cats, and cattle howl and growl as people shove them in their desperate attempt to get closer for a better view of the newlyweds.
The bride’s brother is one of the best men.
He has slept with all 12 of the bridesmaids but is dating none of them.
He is the handsomest in the village and also the dumbest.
He wears beige suit and white leather sandals.
The bride’s father – a carpenter – gives the wedded couple, as a wedding present, a bedroom set – white, wooden bed with brass ornaments and other kitschy details which adorn the two-wing wardrobe, vanity table, kitchen table and kitchen chairs.
The groom’s parents’ gift complements the furniture gift in a surprising harmony.
It’s a burgundy flowery carpet, a set of curtains, night attire for bride and groom and bedlinen for the new bed – all in burgundy flowers and green petals!
The bride, 19, is already heavily pregnant so most of her wedding presents are baby stuff – matching burgundy flowered rompers and caps; handmade cot, a smoking pipe.
The groom, 21, has finished high school and is the village’s pride.
Now he has high hopes to work for his father-in-law in selling…brass furniture.
For the time being (unknown till when) the newlyweds will live in the basement of their in-laws.
The wedding usually takes place in the village centre, right in front of the church, near the local pub with the barman, Joey, who is the wedding’s chief caterer.
As soon as the local pastor, uncle Trevor (uncle to most of the villagers, but not really related to any of them) weds the blessed couple, Joey, the bartender, pours local grappa, beer, and other unknown liquor to all living, moving thing there is in the town centre – parents, pregnant bride, red-cheeks groom, aunts, uncles, old folks, kids, dogs, and cats.
The music is provided by the local shepherd and his assistants – Achilles (drums), Horatio (trumpet), and Homer (violinist and a part-time poet) – and every villager, parents, pregnant bride, red-cheeks groom, aunts, uncles, old folks, kids, dogs, and cats begin to shake hips and limbs in an oblivious dance.
The parents of both bride and groom deliver tearful speeches about their kids who happen to be the most incredible living creatures on earth, most beautiful and intelligent than one could ever imagine.
The father of the bride reminds the groom, of course, where he keeps his guns.
The bride’s brother delivers a tearful speech about his sister who happens to be the most incredible living creature on earth, most beautiful and intelligent than one could ever imagine.
He reminds the groom where he keeps his knives.
Everyone is soaking pissed from the cheap booze, the loud music, and the wild dancing.
The wedded couple have disappeared and are at it in their new home – the in-laws’ basement.
They’re about to have a baby in a month.
At the end
They may divorce.
They may stay together.
They will hope.
II. Weddings between very rich people
The wedding attire
All relatives wear extremely large hats, some of them with birds, some of them with vegetables or other flora or fauna stuck in the rim.
Fake boobs, fake noses, fake tans, and loads of perfume.
Satins and silks and lots of white dresses, besides the bride’s.
No one wears a smile.
Mainly because of the botox implants.
Most guests don’t know the newlyweds.
78% of the guests are ‘business partners’ + 1.
The grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, and sister-in-laws make up for the other 2%.
The remaining 20% is staff – catering staff, chefs, assistants, nannies, butlers, servants, maids, coat holders, valets, wine specialists, musicians.
Any children are forbidden near the wedding guests.
If there are any children at all at the wedding they don’t run around, ever.
They have their own little private fete organised in the petite botanical garden on the other side of the mansion.
They are being entertained by the live performance of a famous Italian soprano, while a swiss chef, who has been flown in from Paris specially for the occasion, is making fresh milk chocolate truffles for them.
The music is strictly string sextet, if Tom Jones is unavailable.
The ‘real’ party begins with champagne.
Anything below Armand de Brignac is frowned upon by the guests and genuinely considered piss.
While the freshly botoxed guests stuff themselves with truffles, champagne, and Vivaldi, the newly weds move around – followed by several video cameras and a helicopter above their heads who eternalise the blessed day on a CD – to thank each guest for coming to their wedding.
All parties pretend to know each other.
The bride and groom shake flaky hands with pasty white folk dressed in shiny baby-pink and turquoise attire for about 4 hours, right about when it’s time to cut the 12-tier crystal covered designer cake.
The best man says his speech which includes embarrassing moments for the groom of which the bride takes mental notes in order to come back to them later on with a huge argument.
Then follows the bridesmaid’s speech.
The bridesmaid is usually dressed in the most abhorrent dress on the planet – something between purple tomato and a bruised clown.
She is likely to be prettier than the bride herself, but then again, the girl is wearing the most despicable dress, so the bride is still at the centre of attention.
The bridesmaid says something no one cares about, because everyone stares in her voluptuous bosom which hasn’t been successfully hidden under the tomato dress.
More talk and shaking hands follows the awkward speeches.
The bride’s dress is awfully heavy, awfully expensive, and awful at the end of the night.
Her legs scream, “get me out of the f&*%ing shoes…I don’t care if they’re Manolos”.
Unfortunately, annoying aunt Patsy and her very queer husband Avron, who constantly winks at the groom, don’t wan’t to leave.
They are unlikely to know each other that well.
It is big business at stake and the wedding has settled big bucks.
But let’s hope they do.
And let’s hope they love each other.
They’ll decide to renounce their parents’ wealth and will escape to somewhere like New York.
She’ll become a journalist and he’ll become a football coach.
Eventually, they’ll move to a farmhouse somewhere in Montana to live ‘organically’.
They’ll begin to grow organic food, which will lead to an explosively rich business.
They’ll renounce that richness, too, and will move to Alaska, where they will finally be happy and miserably cold.
Blinded by white.
Ignorant of world affairs.
They will have five little baby eskimos and will adopt a penguin.
They will hope to live happily ever after.
Weddings during a war:
The same scenario as poor people’s weddings, with bombs falling every now and again, instead of confetti.
There maybe disabled people attending.
Dead relatives – not attending.
More like rich people’s weddings but with jollier people and, at these, kids are usually allowed to run around.
Women guests are likely to be models, ex-models, or hot dates of famous rock artists.
Weddings, second- or third- time round:
Smaller cake, shorter dress, smaller crowd.
Everyone pretends to ignore knowing that the newlyweds come from messy, broken marriages.
All these ‘scenarios’ have one common thing in them.
Whatever the weddings, the caterers, the dress code, the kids’ behaviour.
They all share the same thing: two people’s one hope.
To that, I truly celebrate with each and every couple who plan to, or get wed – officially or unofficially (whatever that means) – that their hopes are always met.