Day 6: March 6, 2024

Nicole if you read this, ily ❤

I never imagined that I’d be attending two of my best friends’ weddings before the age of 25 (and I’ll specify that we’re all Northeast girlies). To me, that’s a child bride. To them, they’re marrying the ‘loves of their lives’ and are very happy and very excited to be wives. Me? Not so much. I’m enjoying my two roommates, no dependents, financial freedom (barely), and plan to take my time preparing for the next genres of life. 

I’m a bridesmaid for my friend Nicole’s wedding in July. I am learning a lot. Primarily, that the wedding industry is corrupt and horrible.

I received a text yesterday asking the bridesmaids to let Nicole know about our hair and makeup preferences, letting us know that it would be $225 for both, or $125 for one. Pardon? Now, I admit I am a bit traumatized from having other people do my hair and makeup without at least one test run because of proms. I look back at my junior year look and cringe, wishing we had saved the hundreds of dollars and I had just done it myself. Since junior year, I’ve also gotten exponentially better at doing my own hair and makeup – ask my mom, I was the covid hair dresser in my family.

I also admit I was already a bit perturbed by the wedding industry because of the dress conundrum I ran into. A quick recap: we are using a wedding-specific site to order dresses. The specifications are sky blue, chiffon, floor length, and shoulders showing. After reading a LOT of reviews and having my roommate take out her tape measurer, I decided to order size twos (I am NOT a size two). They offer a try-on system where you can try on three dresses for $20. So I ordered three dresses. They were all too big, didn’t fit right, and also, were ugly. So I returned them and ordered three more. They were marked as delivered. They were not delivered. If you fail to deliver the dresses within seven days, you get charged for the full price of them, so you can imagine my panic. After I figured out the situation, I ordered three more (that’s nine dresses and $60 if you’re keeping track) in a size zero (shocking and simply incorrect). Two were still too big, and the third was fine. I was fed up and refused to spend another $20 on more dresses, so I made the executive decision to keep the third one and take it to a well-known tailor to see what they could do. Turns out, not much – they said no to a slit because of the chiffon fabric being hard to work with, they couldn’t fix the neckline like I wanted, and the hem was $110 because there were three layers of dress (my jeans I took were only $20 and they have over 200 five star reviews before someone else asks “why didn’t you go somewhere else?). So yeah, I’m feeling perturbed. 

Then I get a text informing me that I’ll need to wear fake eyelashes for the pictures. Pardon? Now, I’ll also admit that I’m a bit traumatized by my year 2000s dance competitions in which my eyelashes were constantly ripped off by eyelash glue. I’ve heard that the fake eyelash industry has improved, but I can’t say I’m thrilled about that prospect. 

Then I heard that pictures are to be outside from 12:45 until 5. Pardon? In July? In Pennsylvania? In a floor-length chiffon dress without a slit? I asked her if there was a fountain I could jump into. She told me I might get in trouble for that. 

Nicole is a very nice bride and my best friend, albeit she has a specific vision. Understandable, and I’m sure when (if) the time comes, I’ll also have some wishes. I’m sitting back, reminding myself that she would do it and more for me, and letting the wind take me here.