Advertisement
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollections

A Special Wedding Section

Before Wedded Bliss, Married to a List

September 02, 1998|From a Times Staff Writer

Congratulations, you're getting married! Wondering what to do next? Buy a dress? Order invitations? Don't consult those checklists in brides magazines--what do they know? Instead, follow our handy 12-month guide that will tell you everything you'll need in the year ahead.

ONE YEAR AHEAD

Get engaged.

Bride: Weep tears of joy and then get on the phone and call everyone you've ever met in your life to tell them the good news. Practice saying "fiance" over and over, deciding if the accent sounds better on the an or the ce.

Groom: Receive congratulations from family and friends and enough back slaps to crush a couple of vertebrae. Listen to kind words like, "Hey, hey, muh' man, taking the plunge! Giving up that freedom! Ready for the ball and chain!" Wonder, "Is it hot in here, or am I just getting married?"

ELEVEN MONTHS AHEAD

Groom: Pick out bride's engagement ring. Wonder where this "rule" came from about spending two months' salary on a ring. Decide it's probably a conspiracy started by the diamond cartels. Wonder if the rule applies to net or gross. Hope for net.

NINE MONTHS AHEAD

Bride and groom: Begin compiling guest list. Bride and groom argue with parents, who want to invite boring business associates as payback for prior social obligations. Groom argues with bride, insisting she not invite her old boyfriends, especially the investment banker who makes six figures and drives a Bimmer. Bride argues with groom, furious over him wanting to invite high school buddy Nick "The Human Vacuum," who never met a buffet he didn't like.

EIGHT MONTHS AHEAD

Bride and groom: Discuss what kind of wedding you want. Bride envisions Martha Stewart fantasy, complete with the L.A. Philharmonic, a cake that's a scale replica of Versailles and 10 bridesmaids in matching Vera Wang gowns. Father of the bride calculates cost; his eyes roll back into his head when he realizes the tab is close to the gross national product of Belize. Groom suggests having a kegger--but with actual nachos instead of just chips.

SIX MONTHS AHEAD

Bride and groom: Order invitations. Try to decide wording, taking into consideration divorced parents, stepparents and deceased parents. Give up after several hours and see if "We're Gettin' Hitched!" is listed in any of the etiquette books.

FOUR MONTHS AHEAD

Bride: Shop for trousseau. Call mother and find out what a trousseau is. Ask if your new Ann Taylor cocktail dress and those slightly irregular sheets from the Strouds clearance sale qualify.

ONE TO TWO MONTHS AHEAD

Bride: Consider hiring a professional makeup artist for your wedding day. Wonder if makeup artist can make you look like Christy Turlington in an hour. Probably not. Decide not to hire makeup artist.

SIX TO EIGHT WEEKS AHEAD

Groom: Choose gifts for your ushers. Having never bought gifts for ushers before, let alone known what an usher actually did, puzzle over what to get them. Compile list that includes make-your-own beer kits, harmonicas, cash, Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendars and steaks. Show list to fiancee. She suggests cuff links.

TWO WEEKS AHEAD

Bride and groom: Go over seating arrangement. Stay up until 2 a.m. making seating chart, with main goal to separate relatives who can't stand the sight of one another. Consider having reception in two rooms. At two hotels.

ONE WEEK AHEAD

Groom: Attend bachelor party. Realize there was no way your fiancee was going to let you go to a stag party at a strip club, so settle for a ballgame with the guys. Eat frightening number of hot dogs and wonder how many other bachelors are celebrating their last days of singlehood this way. Probably none. Spend rest of day downing Alka-Seltzer and applying aloe-soaked paper towels to blistering sunburn.

WEDDING DAY

Bride: Put on wedding gown while praying that none of the seams rip. Start to do makeup and find that your hands are shaking so much from nervousness that you jab your eye pencil into your eye, leaving you temporarily blind. As thick trails of mascara streak down your face, curse the fact that you were too cheap to hire a makeup artist.

Groom: Put on suit and wonder, "Is it hot in here, or am I just getting married?"

Bride and groom: Get married, have reception, go on honeymoon and begin new life. Oh, and don't forget those 200 thank-you notes.

Advertisement
Los Angeles Times Articles
|
|
|