My husband and I had two weddings. We were so eager to marry that we found a JP and rigged up a small do in a library at the back of a Victorian bar where we used to meet. It was in January and horribly cold and windy, but the ceremony itself was very sweet—my sister was my maid of honor and her husband, the best man (my husband is from out of state and didn’t know anyone well). Unknown to me, word had gone round and two of my aunts showed up, as well as my mother, siblings, nephews and nieces. There was cake, paper plates and plastic champagne glasses, but that was fine. We had a great time!
But I HAD to have a big wedding. I wanted a vintage-look dress and it took forever to design and find a dressmaker who could handle boning in the dress, as well as the many layers.
Trouble raised its head when my closest sister and MOH had a huge falling out and she was no longer the bridesmaid. I tried to reconcile with her but she LOVES grudges! So my best friend stepped in, but was at least 5 sizes larger, so a whole new dress had to be made.
The day began as a beautiful, utterly clear, July day, but after the ceremony which was very beautiful (we had it in a well known church at Smith College, with a 6-person chorus and famous organist), the clouds gathered and when we emerged, and rain began. Almost all the photos outside the church show people looking up at the sky with dismay!
As we traveled to the reception at an Inn/restaurant up in the Berkshires, the rain poured down and became sleet! I couldn’t believe it. Only on MY wedding day would this happen…snow in July.
Things were nice during the photo shoot and our photographer was excellent, using a special camera to make the portraits look old. Then he took fantastic candids during the meal. But he became obsessed by my old college roommate and took almost a roll of film of her and only a few of me and my husband!
We had hired a pianist but he switched his repertoire and played cheesy lounge music instead of the classical and soft rock we had discussed. People were literally cringing.
When we switched to recorded music we had picked, NOBODY danced except my husband and I, my sister (who came to the ceremony after all) and her little son. The rest of them sat there like lumps. Also, my friends and relatives basically separated into two camps and refused to interact.
When it was over, we stayed at the inn, with my husband’s two friends who had come from Ohio (one was the best man). The innkeeper (whose food was quite good) nicely offered to put our flowers in his refrigerator to keep them.
When we left the next day, we forgot them and when we called from home, he gruffly told us that he had thrown them all out “for health reasons”! I was furious.
We also got the worst gifts, including a huge, ceramic plate, with naked women on it who had hair made of spaghetti—what the hell?! However, my parents’ best friends gave us a large toaster oven that was great for our tiny apartment. Another couple gave us a basket full of kitchen stuff, which was helpful. Otherwise, it was a dud…and nowhere near as sweet and sentimental as our first wedding.
Thus, for the past 30 years, we have always considered the little, January wedding our real one. That’s when we celebrate.