The process of being transformed into “The Bride” (a form of life unlike any other) can be so all-consuming that said person might forget she is, well, still a person. Yes, a living, breathing, eating, drinking, sleeping, and tooth-brushing being who still has the basic needs and limitations shared by everyone in the human race. There’s no question when you put on the white dress, the world treats you differently. But not so Mother Nature, or Sir Isaac Newton’s famous laws. The same rules still apply as when you’re in your college hoodie and pajama pants. As much as everyone keeps repeating that you’re the most beautiful of all God’s creations (which is of course true), underneath all that silk and lace you are still: you, the person who spilled a chocolate shake all over your prom date.
And if you’re the kind of young woman who has trouble getting the forkful of pasta into her mouth without half of it ending up on the table cloth, that limitation hasn’t been dispensed with. If it’s unlikely the sip of wine won’t occasionally dribble down your chin and onto that sweatshirt, this time it will end up on your wedding dress. And if you are among the less graceful of us, being attired in a gown that came straight from heaven won’t magically endow you with the cat-like grace of your cat.
The messiest stuff you are allowed to approach is your makeup, and unless you are the ethereally poised Kate Middleton famously doing her own face (with half the British Empire standing by to fix it if you mess it up), you’ll have a makeup artist or a sister to corral it for you. So herewith some rules to live by, based on my observation of catastrophes and near misses. Fellow clumsy people, these are for us.
Once you are in your wedding dress:
- Don’t open the fridge.
- Don’t look at the fridge from across the room.
- Don’t even venture into the kitchen until someone else has gone in first to secure the perimeter.
However, this is not to say you shouldn’t eat. Please, please eat before your wedding – because drinking five glasses of wine on an empty stomach to calm your nerves can only end in disaster (and/or some unseemly personal revelations). But do not do it in your dress. Or, if you absolutely must, having been previously forced into your gown at gunpoint or under duress of threats from your mother, at least cocoon yourself in Saran Wrap first. No matter how silly you think you look donning an apron to eat a few bites of cheese and crackers, it pales in comparison to how it would feel to walk down the aisle with brie smudged all over your bodice. And just to be on the safe side, consume only colorless food (Cottage cheese? Yes. Blueberry jam? Don’t think so.) and pale liquids (Pinot Gris, not Noir).
Suffice it to say the common sense that should determine these decisions is not as common as it should be. I’ve seen some real disasters, and heroic recoveries, as a result of misplaced consumables. But some of these stories are too terrifying to relate in polite company, so I won’t. Don’t make me tell you the story about the bride and the jar of pasta sauce. Seriously, don’t. If you are a bride, I promise it will give you nightmares for longer than the original of the Alien series. In fact, it’s better that we never speak of it again.