Last summer we attended a wedding where the bride, dressed in traditional white, was taken captive by pirates — dressed in traditional bandannas, cutlasses, eye-patches, baggy boots, etc. When the groom/buccaneer attempted rescue, he too was taken captive and forced at sword-point to plead for the life of his betrothed. Under this duress, he took a shaky breath, then broke into song and . . . you get the picture.
We knew the groom, and this contribution to the party was him to a “T”: young, dramatic, vigorously expressive, impatient with staid tradition. We'd only just met the bride, and liked what we saw. She and her maids were not only gorgeous, they were also genuinely good-humored, and sweetly indulgent toward the dudes galloping about the other side of the altar. Eventually the wedding proceeded as weddings are expected to. We took it all as a good sign for the couple in question.
The people we sat with at the reception dinner, however, had this to say: “He’s going to regret what he wore.”
Hm. Really? I mean, any more than other grooms do, when the blessed event is a distant memory and the kids are pulling out the pictures for giggles? No doubt there are Flickr accounts devoted solely to bridal gown disasters, but let’s be honest: the groom standing next to the gal wearing the fashion apocalypse is making her look like Coco Chanel. She may, in fact, resemble the Bride of Frankenstein, but he is still, in fact, Frankenstein. No groom escapes that fate.
The second most important question regarding the groom’s attire is, Is he comfortable? If so, than he’s as happy as he’s likely to get during the event. Is he having fun? Bonus! Are they both having fun? Well . . . that’s just magic.
Hey, here’s me in 1994, defying the odds with a bolo tie and ponytail! Timeless — when propped beside my good-humored, sweetly indulgent and drop-dead gorgeous wife.