Editor’s note: Sometimes, feels compelled to share a strongly held opinion. This is one of those times.
Look, I’m all for love. And if you want to get married, get married. But I’m going to come right out and say it: I think there are better ways to celebrate your love than by financially ruining yourself so you can dance to Bruno Mars with every boomer your extended family has on offer.
Traditional weddings are an antiquated vestige of a bygone society, but that’s not even my biggest issue—because honestly, it could be fun to bring back dowries. At least then I could promise my potential mates a caravan of camels and not just a personality disorder. No, my problem is the cost. The catering, the venue, the outfits! A wedding dress is like a high-end hooker: you pay $2,000 for one night with her that you’ll never forget.
Plus, half of marriages end in divorce! At that rate, we should drop $15k on parties every time Elon Musk launches a new rocket, because they have the exact same chance of crashing and burning. Why are we investing so much financially and emotionally in something whose outcome could be decided by a coin flip? People spend more time planning their wedding than they do planning their actual life together. It's like if you went to high school and spent the whole time planning prom instead of learning biology or whether you can fucking stand your lab partner.
Weddings also aren’t just expensive to throw, they’re expensive to attend. Travel, lodging, attire, and gifts? I’m like, “Are we getting married, Stephanie? Because you're sure spending my money like we are!” Why is my broke ass spending half my income on lovebirds who only have half a chance?
And don’t get me started on registries! (Uh oh, I’m started.) The whole concept is bogus. You’ve already got the greatest gift of all, true love! Why do you also need a Nutribullet?! By getting married and merging two lives into one, you’ve actually doubled your knick-knack inventory. You don’t need plates. You have too many plates now. Therefore, your wedding shouldn’t have a registry—it should have a garage sale.1
I especially hate getting thank you notes for gifts from a registry. “OMG it was so thoughtful of you to buy us the only remaining item that we specifically requested!” Let me be clear: I’m not stingy. I would totally be down to chip in on something every bride and groom actually need, like couple’s therapy. A Williams Sonoma silverware set probably won’t save your marriage, but some basic communication might!
Another thing I hate: the seating chart. You don’t even get to pick who you sit with! And if you’re not part of a larger group like “relatives” or “coworkers” or “college friends,” you inevitably end up with the mutants at Table 9. Assigned seats make it feel like elementary school, except your group project is subtly sussing out how long everyone else thinks the marriage will last.
LIGHTNING ROUND!
I hate the DJ who specializes in a genre that can only be called roller rink fusion. Do we really like the song “Shout!” or has Big Wedding just told us we do?
I hate the weird speeches that no one can ever hear because middle-aged dads are anatomically unable to properly hold a microphone.
I hate the dinner cards they send out ahead of time, asking for your meal preference. I don’t know what I’ll be in the mood for in 3 months, but I bet it won’t be steamed cod!
If you really want to have a wedding, I think you should have to wait until three years into your marriage. Let’s gather a little data first!
Then, you can have a party. A normal party. Not one where we all have to sit and silently watch you slow dance with your dad.
MORE FROM RACHEL
Registries make way more sense after a divorce for people who are losing half their shit. Let’s normalize that.
As someone who’s had 15 years, 3 kids and a crippling mortgage with my soul mate, we’ve decided to spend the money on a 5-week holiday to Europe instead 🤷♀️
"... you inevitably end up with the mutants at Table 9."
I ALWAYS go straight to Table 9. Sure enough, there I am. 😕💦😅