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The Self-defeating Danger Of Bridezillaness

 

It's Friday, I'm behind on my piece about Obama-pal Valerie Jarrett, and I have no desire to spend one more minute thinking about Big O's European vacation. So indulge me while I zip through some of the non-political sections of the past few days' newspapers and throw some of the less-erudite subjects out there for comment.

First and most shallowly, did anyone see the NYT "Thursday Styles" piece on Bridezillas who decree that their entire wedding party (including the groom's mom) must undergo certain cosmetic procedures in order to spruce up for the big day? One featured bride actually had two attendants decline their duties  becuase the bride they were too claustrophic to endure the fake-tanning spa procedure demanded by the bride. (The attendants' offer to self-tan at home was rejected because the bride wanted everyone to be the exact same shade.)

I feel pretty safe asserting that all of these brides are insane. And not just because they've lost all perspective and sense of personal boundaries. (I mean, it takes serious cojones to tell a close friend or relative: I think your stained teeth/crows feet/saggy jowls/wrinkled brow/pale flesh are so hideous that I cannot bear them in my wedding. Get x procedure, or you're out!) 

But even speaking from an entirely shallow and self-centered perspective--clearly the POV these women have adopted: If you're looking to be queen for the day, why not let the rest of the wedding party look less-than-airbrushed-perfect so that you will look even better by comparison? Seriously. Your maid of honor's espresso-tinted choppers will just make yours glow all the whiter. And your sister's milky flesh will make your spray-on tan seem ever more golden. But if everyone has been nipped, tucked, bleached, and Botoxed to perfection, you the bride don't shine quite so brightly. 

Not so long ago, brides understood this strategy: Part of the point of all those poofy, sherbet-hued bridesmaids' dresses was that they were highly unflattering. But now, everyone wants their wedding party to look as unnatural as the cast of "Sex & the City." Fine by me. Bridezillas will be Bridezillas. Just don't complain if 10 years from now you're flipping through your wedding album and your son says: "You look fine, Mommy, but Wow! Aunties Jackie, Sarah, and Sandra look awesome!"

--Michelle Cottle