Newton Kansan
In 65 days, I will be Mrs. Cari Cusick.
I write this with both joy and trembling. Joy because I’ll be Mrs. Cari Cusick. Trembling because sometime between now and then, I have pull off a wedding. I pride myself on being an organized sort of gal, so compulsive list-making and detail-orientation are no big deal. And it’s going to be a simple ceremony with a cake and punch reception, so it’s not as if I’m attempting the social event of the century. The problems stem not from what I have left to do, but from the constant pressure that I should be doing — and spending — so much more. After all, weddings have become quite the industry. A Google search indicates the average wedding is costing between $20,000 and $28,000. (Our budget is a small percentage of that.) It’s easy to get caught up in the bridal magazines and yards of tulle and gazillion etiquette rules and forget that most Web sites and magazines we brides turn to for help are really just trying to sell us stuff. Everything has an emotional, sentimental selling pitch that sounds something like “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event. It should be your special day. You should have whatever you want. Cost should not be an issue.” Sounds decent, except the subliminal message they’re using to sell us stuff is really one of two untrue sentiments. One, it’s OK if you go into mounds of debt (or put your parents in such a predicament) even though cost is no predictor of the happiness of your marriage, and you should make lots of selfish demands on anyone and everyone because, gosh darnit, you’re worth it. And two, if you don’t do everything suggested in every magazine and on every Web site, you’re horrible and your day will be ruined. There are so many optional wedding components that are passed off as “must-haves” — think wedding favors that can cost from $1 to $10 or more per person, elaborate rehearsal dinners, designer wedding gowns, grandiose receptions that last ‘til the wee hours of the morning with enough food and alcohol to supply a small town, numerous showers, and oh, so much more. (The irony is, it seems while people are spending more on weddings, they are becoming less gracious about issues like presents, attire and expenses of attendants, and burdens placed on friends and families.) Weddings have become an end in and of themselves, rather than a ceremony marking something far more significant than one day can contain. And I find myself worrying not whether my fiancé and I like how things are, but what other people will think. A simple cake-and-punch ceremony used to be the norm. Now I wonder if my guests will think we’re cheap for not having a seven-course feast at the reception. Am I the most horrible person in the known universe because we’re not buying individual favors? Will the wedding pictures be ruined if we don’t buy matching boutonnieres for every male who might possibly be in a posed shot? While it’s important to be considerate of guests, worrying about impressing them shouldn’t be a consideration. And yes, if you want to have all the bells and whistles and can afford them, more power to you. But we need to realize they are optional, not mandatory. Fortunately, I have a loving fiancé who gently and lovingly reminds me that people who love us will be there because they love us, not because of the decorations and the cute little flower mints. And he also helps keep me from falling victim to the mass marketing schemes that sometimes suck me in. The truth of the matter is, 20 years from now when we’re looking back at all the wedding photos, no matter what decorations or dress or color schemes we go with, we’ll look dated and silly. We’ll comment on our hairstyles and outfits and wonder what the dickens we were thinking. But in 20 years, I plan to be flipping through that wedding album with my husband, still married, still together, still the love of each others’ lives — and you can’t put a price tag on that. Cari Middendorf is a columnist and news clerk for the Kansan.
