The Wedding Ch. 2 – Colors

Fiery bouquets.  Peaches, mangos, creams and reds.  Two o’clock ceremony in the garden.  Handmade placecards.  Jazz band.  Cellist.

And then I woke up.

I think the biggest mistake made with my wedding was accepting the offer to hold it my in-laws’ estate.  I thought naively, who wouldn’t want to get married on the sprawling, manicured acreage with a Tuscan mansion in the background and black swans in the lake?  Anyone in their right mind, that’s who.  Oh Elvis, I apologize for my stupidity; I truly do.

Deciding on a home wedding put the ball in my mother-in-law’s court – her tennis court, to be exact, where the reception would be held.  As we hiked down the lawn toward the court in the initial stages of planning, I described to her my color-scheme, flowers, and how I’d seen the perfect bridesmaid dresses to fit right in.  She said nothing, until we arrived at the tennis court.  With a sweep of her arm, she said, “But look at the morninglory.  It’s everywhere, and it’s blue.”

Okay.  So?

“Well the colors that you want are not going to match the morninglory.  But it’s your wedding, you can have your colors clash if you like…”  This is the way she usually framed her distaste, beneath thinly veiled insults that implied that I knew nothing.  A small sampling of my favorites were Well, it’s not what I would choose… and Trust me, I know what works… and Really?  You would do that?  Oh.

She went on to remind me that alllllllll the brides this season were doing baby blue, which coincidentally would go PERFECTLY with her morninglory, and didn’t I think that would be FABULOUS?  Now, I like blue – in things like sky and water.  But in a wedding?  So drab and tame and… oh, yes, wealthy Jew.  Should be perfect!  I retreated back to square one, solemnly removing every Post-It from my wishes and turning my magazines back to the table of contents.

Little by little, all of my wishes for my wedding were subverted.  The 2 o’clock garden ceremony became 5 o’clock, the cellist became a harpist, the roses became blue hydrangeas.  The jazz quartet became an obnoxious cover band the in-laws enjoyed, and the bride became increasingly and at regular intervals, aware that she was not the reason for the festivities, but rather a convenient excuse.