Bridezilla

bridezilla takes over D.C. – something borrowed and something blue!

I attended the wedding of a friend not too long ago to show my support for her union to a certain Mr. Someone.  With a bun in the oven, the wedding date was a last minute sort of detail; but in the finale it happened on a rainy Tuesday evening.

A wedding in Washington D.C. in the middle of November on a Tuesday was close to impossible for  guests to try make; with oh the little distractions like work and traffic that always seemed to peak their ugly heads.  Nonetheless I had planned things out perfectly that day. I left my job at approximately 3:30PM and I had already chosen my ensemble for the evening.  A cute and simple purple Dior cocktail dress with a single ruffle detail that was sown diagonally across the middle.  I loved weddings and I imagined that tonight would be special.

As you might already know I am a big movie goer. In the classics the perfect wedding ceremony would always begin with the bride having something old, something borrowed and something blue.  So I decided to lend the bride something borrowed.  My gesture was a single white gold bangle bracelet entrenched with beautiful colorless diamonds (5 karats to be exact) that I scored in India about 5 years ago.

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Eric N Smith-close enough replica

I decided to call my girlfriend in New York and get her take on the idea of me lending my bracelet.  “Wendy are you crazy! you don’t lend a bracelet like that to a girl that is only your acquaintance.  You shouldn’t even lend a piece of jewelry like that to me and I’m your best friend.”  She tried her best to talk me down from the ledge, but all I could do was smile and grin.  I was so happy for the girl that was getting married that I threw all worry and caution out the window, along with common sense and reason.  The bracelet was just a material thing and I am not a material girl.  Well maybe just a little. But I decided to follow through with my plan.

I arrived about 45 minutes early to get a good seat at the wedding and to lend the bride my bracelet.  I almost had to go through seven checkpoints of bridal security just to get to her.  It was like going through TSA at the airport during the Thanksgiving holiday.  The brides entourage consisted of the grooms mom, the brides mom, the brides sister, “the gossip girls that would never get married” friends, and several other cronies that were on bridal duty. All of whom were evil to me I might add.

Nonetheless the bride was ecstatic to wear the bracelet in her wedding and that was all that mattered. However, she was actually more excited with the diamonds in my bracelet than she was with the sequin sparkles in her own wedding gown.  In fact, when I presented her with the bracelet she and her bride slaves oohed and awed over it as if I had given it to her as a wedding gift. “You are a real bride now because you are bling blinging.” I heard one of her entourage say.  I was replaying the exchange in my head and I distinctly remember saying to her that I brought you “something borrowed” and that I would be honored to have you wear MY bracelet in your wedding.  From that point forward her eyes were locked in on my bracelet like a huntress to its prey.    But I was just touched that she was happy with it and that was all the affirmation I needed.

Happy I was, stupid I wasn’t. Throughout the ceremony I guarded my diamond loan like a hawk.  I felt like the security of a Harry Winston wreath at the Oscars.   During the ceremony I noticed her peering down at it and admiring its detail.  I also noticed her playing with it in the receiving line.  At the reception hall I caught a glimpse of her taking it on and off like my 7 year old neice does with her neon rubber band jewelry.  Even during the cutting of the cake she caressed my bracelet and held it close to to her heart, gently rubbing each of the individual diamonds.   If I didn’t know her any better I would say that she was growing quite intimate with my bracelet and was playing this “something borrowed” game for keeps.

The bride and groom had just cut the cake when I suddenly got a tiny panic attack.  It was then that I pondered over how I would get my bracelet back.  Is it appropriate to ask for it back?   Should I wait and see if she will make the first move?  If she doesn’t do I get it back before or after the honeymoon? Hell, her and the groom might get real freaky and toss my bracelet to the roof. Shouldn’t I be happy that she is quite taken with it? All of these thoughts kept playing over and over in my head like the first time I saw “Any Given Sunday,” and I couldn’t shake that  song Jamie  Foxx was singing “My name is Willie… Willie Beamin”.  So I settled on asking for it back at the very end of the wedding, which was fast approaching.

The reception was just about over, and  many of the guests had begun to leave one by one. The bride and groom were saying their goodbyes and I still had not uttered a word about my bracelet.  Was I scared?  “Don’t let her punk you!”, said my evil conscious. What was I waiting for?  She knew that the bracelet was something borrowed.  Or did she?

Then the bride made her way over to my table to say her goodbyes.  As she began to walk away, I said in a shy and sweet voice, “You looked so beautiful as a bride and I am so happy for you.”  Then I carefully whispered, “I hate to be an ‘Indian giver’ but can I snag my bracelet back from you now.”

She grew seven feet tall, and could probably dunk the hell out of a basketball, in what seemed like seconds. Bridezilla was now towering over me, burning my MAC eye lashes with the violent flames that were shooting out of her mouth.  Nah, that was just bad breath.  Her face was bright beet red and her fangs and claws were becoming pronounced.  Green scaly horns began protruding out of her head destroying her handmade French roll and hot steam began expelling out of her horns like an unstoppable locomotive.

Bridezilla had come to life, right here in the flesh before my eyes, using my friend as a vessel.  She looked at me as if I were a skyscraper standing in her way and she said with her most scornful voice.  “Oh NO you may not!  I think that I will just keep your little bracelet until I feel like giving it back.”  And she stormed off  through the forest, gathering her gown. She disappeared for almost twenty minutes, for what seemed like an eternity to me.  I was so angry with her, because I was just trying to make her wedding day memorable; and wouldn’t stop at nothing until she had world domination. It was then that I realized that I was in the wrong, because I should have never lent it in the first place.

I panicked but tried not to have a knee jerk reaction to her childish behavior. I should have really given her something blue, but in the end I settled for just getting my bracelet back.  So I let things simmer down a bit and then I followed her outside and approached her again about my bracelet.  This time I made sure to make eye contact with her and to stand my ground.  With her hands on her hips she belted out an evil laugh laced with venom and said, “here take yo little bracelet back.” And she practically yanked it off of her wrist and thew it at me.  I was left feeling sad and hurt, like I had done something wrong.  Bridezilla made it seem like I spoiled her wedding day.

Even though I won the battle that night,  I learned a very important lesson for the next time I get a certain impulse to play Santa.   Never loan something to someone that you can’t stand to part with.  That was my foolish mistake.  Second, the “something borrowed” sentiment should be something comparable to a decadent, under $10.00 dollars, silver tone jeweled bobby pin from Claire’s Boutique or Portia’s Jewelery.  The “something borrowed” should be a small thoughtful gesture that will allow you to sleep easy at night,  especially when Bridezilla  happens to be on the loose.  Til next time wedding crashers.

 

talk to me…what would you have done differently? 

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Portia’s jewelery $4.00

Wendy Davis