I'm pretty sure that's not the way it's supposed to work. This week I learned that no matter how hard you try, you will always turn into a bridezilla. But I don't believe that all bridezillas are naturally born. I'm quite sure that your environment moulds you into one, quite unwittingly. The circumstances and difficult positions you are put in all conspire to turn you from a reasonable human being into a forthright, no-nonsense and, sometimes, hysterical bride.
The bridesmaid with 'dress issues' came to London and showed me how bad the dress looked. Except she didn't, because it didn't. The dress actually looked better on her than both of the other girls and fitted in all the right places. She looked fabulous but she couldn't see it. The shop assistant exclaimed how lovely she looked but soon realised that she was better off staying out of the conversation.
The main issue here is that the dress is so far removed from anything she would usually choose. It's a style she's not comfortable with. I don't want any of my bridesmaids to feel uncomfortable in what they're wearing and welcome feedback and ideas but I don't think I could ever have imagined the hatred said garment could cause. What surprised me most was the complete lack of thought into how I might feel upon hearing such comments.
I wanted to have something slightly different - not peach flowery 1970's different or goth-rock different, just something a little bit quirky. I have bought myself a dress that is 3/4 length so naturally I don't want my girlfriends in long flowing gowns to the floor - it simply won't fit the look. My initial thought when thinking about bridesmaid dresses was 'high street' - Coast and Monsoon are always a good bet - however when I found a fantastic 1950's shop in Holloway and saw the gorgeous frocks I knew what I wanted. A month after deciding this Boyf and I pretty much planned the wedding around that colour and style theme - and why shouldn't we? It's our wedding and time is ticking on so we really do need to make some decisions.
To receive a text from a bridesmaid telling you the dress is awful is one thing, but to see it's not awful and then have to listen to her slating the material, style, quality, cut, colour ...blah blah blah. To hear how it's become a laughing stock in her house with her husband having a good laugh in passing the picture around at work and how her mum doesn't really think it's quite right... well it's not very nice as I'm sure you can agree. As much as she thinks it was a snap decision and I chose the dresses to make life easier, the simple truth is that I love them.
Actually I need to rephrase that. I loved them. I don't any more. I hate them because now they symbolise a very unhappy girlfriend and one that has made me more upset that she realises.
She kept asking me, in an incredulous tone of voice, if I really liked it and saying that she would wear it if that is what I really want. But to hear that, after her suggesting that she really didn't want to and that she would rather just support me on the day and not be a bridesmaid, does make it difficult to swallow. The top moment (or all-time low depending on how you look at it) is probably a tie between 'tablecloth' comments and the 'oh god please don't make me wear that' in a voice best described as that of a petulant 10 year old.
Choking back the tears and trying to remain calm I asked her what she wanted me to say?
Don't misunderstand me, this whole conversation was upsetting her too although, with hindsight, I'm not sure if it was more frustration that it looked as if she wasn't getting her way rather than how she thought she looked like some freak show and that everyone would be taking the rise out of her on the day because of the dress. Maybe I'm just a little jaded, I don't know. It's tricky seeing as everyone else who has seen photos of the dresses thinks they are utterly fantastic.
The dress was thrust back into the bag and we left the shop barely speaking. A tricky cab-ride into town was fairly monosyllabic and that didn't change until we were halfway through a bottle of rosé at which point I couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer.
She told me that she had to tell me how she felt - she'd even asked one of our friends for advice about it as she knew it would upset me and that she didn't know what to do. Incidentally, that friedn told her to say nothing and suck it up....
At the moment, I just wanted to try to hold on to a shred of the friendship that looked certain to be in tatters at any point so was very non-confrontational about it. So, no, I didn't tell her that every time she made another comment about her husband's jokes and her mother's tablecloth it just twisted the knife further.
I knew that we couldn't use the dresses at the point a mutual friend arrived and, at once, it was clear that as soon as I left the bar, she would be telling him exactly what had happened and how much she hated the dress and what god-awful taste I had.
Hence my earlier comment. I hate the dresses now. She has ruined them. I can't see them in any other way than naff, ridiculous and cheap. Do you want to see them? here you go.... a 1950's halterneck
Maybe she is right but that's not how I feel right now. I felt an idiot in the shop when the assistant asked me if there was anything wrong with the dresses, I felt even more of an idiot when I left the shop in tears.
My mother is furious and the other 2 bridesmaids can't quite believe it, but what choice do I really have? I can't go on with them knowing that she feels so strongly about them and also that I was likely to be spending the whole of my wedding day waiting for the jokes to start. I'll say that part again.... MY WEDDING DAY. The day that I am supposed to pretty much have my own way on almost everything. The day when your girlfriends will happily turn up in a bin bag tied up with string if that's what you asked them to do.
I've been a bridesmaid 5 times now:
1 - aged 18 for a cousin. I have no recollection of seeing the dress before the wedding.
2 - aged 25 for a friend. Our measurements were taken over the phone and I saw the dress for the first time at the first fitting.
3 - aged 27 for The Bridesmaid. Yes you read that correctly. Again, measurements over the phone and saw it for the first time at the fitting.
4 - aged 30 for my now sister-in-law (and another of my 3 bridesmaids). We all went to see the dress she had chosen and then went to see what size we needed.
5 - aged 36 for the last remaining bridesmaid. I was the only grown-up bridesmaid so she and I trawled the high street for something suitable. It was a joint decision.
So, 4 out of 5 times I had no say in the choice of my dress and that's the way it generally works. And that is the way it will work from now on. I have now compromised the whole look of my wedding for one person, so from now on all choices have been taken away. Whatever I choose will have to be good enough. If it is not, she has the option not to wear it and with that the understanding that she will not be a bridesmaid.
I'm drawing a line under it all. I don't want anyone to mention the 'old' dresses again. As far as everyone needs to be concerned, they didn't exist and still don't. When I eventually put The Bridesmaid out of her misery and tell her the dresses have gone back I will make that perfectly clear. The first time she brings it up in any way she will find out exactly how I feel rather than the polite face I put on earlier this week.
In conclusion, I'm certain that whilst some bridezillas are just born that way, most are created. And it's not a nice feeling.
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