Women scream when their friends get engaged to keep the demon trapped inside her diamond from getting out.
Brides traditionally wear veils over their heads during the ceremony in order to keep their faces from flying off.
It is considered bad luck for the groom to die before the wedding day.
After ceremonially “giving the bride away,” the father of the bride customarily selects a replacement daughter from among the wedding guests, raising her as his own until she is old enough to leave the nest.
The engagement ring is generally worn on the fourth finger of the left hand; only after the wedding is concluded will the groom begin to slowly encase the rest of the bride’s body in pure metal.
The flower girl strews petals along the floor of the wedding chapel as a sign of disrespect to the church’s custodial staff; general a girl is chosen for her bad temper and class snobbery.
Traditionally, the groom carries the bride over the threshold of their new home as her legs begin to wither and disappear almost immediately after the ceremony.
After the wedding, the bride takes her husband’s name. Her husband will be forced in turn to take the name of a stranger, who will then go nameless.
Typically the bride is the only person at a wedding to wear white because she is a ghost.
Tags: humor, social conventions, traditions, weddings
Say Yes To Becoming An Unearthly Spirit
Do I need to worry that my husband is taking a long time to encase my body in metal? He’s only got up to my left elbow, and we’ve been married four years!
My husband has only encased my ring fingers and ears in metal thus far, and we’ve been married 18 years this summer. My guess is that he’s found a spell that will use those points to encase the rest just before we shuffle off, and is being considerate of my mobility until then.
It depends on the metal. Even a simple copper encasement typically takes 7 years and is not often used due to its propensity to rust green. A more popular custom is silver, twenty-five years in the making so as not to alarm any offspring who are not always immediately aware that a Silver Mother is not a robot.
This is exactly how I felt about the Game of Thrones bedding ceremony, and then I found it is ACTUALLY a thing that has been done in ages past. WHY?
Gotta make sure everyone knows where to put it.
Misread that as wedding, couldn’t figure out what the confusion was, re-read, am now horrified. Clearly not watching GoT is a good choice for me.
I think it was partly to provide evidence that they actually consumated the marriage. If marriage was mostly a strategic legal move, and wasn’t considered “completed” until they actually had sex, I guess it makes some sense that they’d want witnesses.
Why not? Why is sex a thing to be done in private, behind closed doors? What if your architectural reality doesn’t really have “doors”? There are ways and reasons we came to do things the way we do them now, but they’re almost all cultural constructs of some sort.
New favorite way of describing a studio apartment: “My architectural reality doesn’t have doors.”
It sounds like the perfect segue into explaining that the reason you’ve gathered them all here today is for an orgy.
I’m gigglesnorting at that. It’s very undignified, but luckily my architectural reality includes doors and nobody can hear it.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure private sex is a fairly recent thing. You have to consider how many people were sharing one-room houses with the entire extended family. Kids probably got their sexual educations pretty early on in those days.
On the plus side, though, I’m betting they didn’t have any of those “OMG I can’t believe my parents had SEX, that’s so GROSS” moments. By the time they’re aware of what’s going on, they’re probably like, “Meh, whatever, it’s just a thing they do sometimes.”
I like to think that is was less “Meh” and more “Sis, come inside quick! Ma’s makin’ that face again!”
Yeah I think I could do without the first time I have sex with my new husband being surrounded by his dad’s leering friends and their color commentary.
The vast majority of people (read: the people who didn’t live in castles with several rooms) had limited living space, many people lived in houses consisting of a single room that was shared by the whole family. So if everyone was aware they were having sex, it was mainly because nobody could justify the cost of building separate rooms for all the grown-ups in the house.
For people who did have bigger living spaces, their weddings were usually a way to cement alliances (and make some babies for extra cementing value). Depending on the time period sometimes they actually hung out in the same room where the bride and groom were having sex just to make sure that sex was indeed happening. Non-consummation was grounds of annulment, so it was probably in the interest of both parties to have witnesses to this just in case they wanted to get rid of that alliance and the fact that the couple hadn’t had sex yet was the perfect excuse.
Also, people in those days didn’t have heaters and both shacks and castles could get cold, so it was common for people to share rooms (even beds) as a way to keep warm and save up on firewood, instead of having to keep multiple bedrooms warm.
I don’t know if people would have thought of it as weird. They probably just thought it was another normal thing in their reality like other habits.
I picked my niece as a flower girl, who is generally not bad-tempered although a three-year-old only child, but I’ve just realised I’ve scheduled my wedding for her naptime so this should all work out nicely. (Class snobbery is a learned skill, right? I’ve got a few weeks to get that imparted).
As Rodgers & Hammerstein assure us, you’ve got to be taught / to hate and fear / etc.
A 10-part lesson plan should do the trick.
Are you my aunt in 1991? That’s exactly what happened. I was fine-tempered normally, and I was 3 also, but it was not good timing. It did not go well. I’m sorry to report that to you.
I may not be your aunt in 1991, but I’m my cousin in 1993 in re: myself at the same age.
Bridesmaids must spend the equivalent of one entire paycheck on wedding attire and accessories in order to prevent the mother of the bride from transforming into a banshee.
And even then, it doesn’t always work.
Not including airfare/travel/hotel even!
So when the father of the bride selects a replacement daughter and raises her as his own, does he then give her away at HER wedding, thus resulting in an endless cycle of daughter-choosing and givings-away? Or does she return to her former father for this task?
The cycle can only be broken by those brave women who take to the sea.
Whoever wins the bouquet toss will be the next to die.
My friend discovered she had MS when her legs stopped working on her honeymoon.
I now realize it was no coincidence.
oh my god that’s awful
I know. She manages it fine now, but it was a damn shock.
This explains so much.
Midway through the reception, at an unseen signal, the groomsmen and bridesmaids wordlessly depart for the deepest forest, to complete a bacchanalian ritual in which they sacrifice the maid of honor and best man to the god Hymen.
The slow build to frenzy begins whenever the bride whispers the ritual words, “And the great part is, you can wear it again.” Thus the die is cast.
The only problem with this ritual is that so few people actually know who Hymen is, where he’s located, and what his purpose is.
My great-grandfather’s name was Hyman and I always suspect that he was secretly an incarnation of Hymen, with a very poorly chosen pseudonym.
I want to link this on Facebook so badly, but I fear the rain of panic and chaos and anger it will impart.
Wait. Wait. Wait. We’re getting engaged right away. I am going to post one of those obnoxious shots of my hand with a ring on it ALONG WITH A LINK TO THIS.
And I will screenshot the fallout when I do.
Yesss please do! I want to do the same but will never have the nerve.
True fact: if you and your spouse-to-be eschew the diamond engagement ring, when someone* says tartly “Well, if you don’t have a ring, you aren’t really engaged,” tradition calls for the bride-to-be to go home, put on her sharpest non-engagement ring, return to the speaker, and backhand said speaker once for each month the engagement is expected to last before marriage.
*I was trying on expensive dresses; she was trying her darnedest to sell me the most expensive one, and still she said it. She might not be the very smoothest retail worker ever.
We ordered me an inexpensive lab-created birthstone ring because of that garbage. I don’t believe in diamonds for both ethical reasons and a disapproval of wedding-industrial-complex-“look how much my husband thinks I’m worth, here is my massive, artificially inflated in price rock!” culture, but I don’t want to spend my whole life having people give me crap about no ring. So we bought a cheap Etsy thing and I’ll wear it to shut my mom, his extended family, and any harpy acquaintances up.
My husband gave me an blue drusy engagement pendant. It’s not the kind of piece that is to everyone’s taste, but it’s perfect for me. He gave it to me, all nervous and hopeful, and said “I know you like blue, and I know you wear silver. I know you like that kind of stone [the bumpy, uneven crystals of a drusy finish]. And I know you don’t usually wear chains, but this one is thick and hinged, so maybe it will be more comfortable, and the pendant fits on your neck-ring if you don’t.”
And I was bowled over. Not just at the pendant itself, and not even at how well he knew me, but that he knew me so very well and still wanted to marry me. No one’s ever known me so well, or loved me so much.
My former boss (and dear friend) from the posh boutique where I used to help buy clothing and jewelry attended our wedding, and we got to talk for the first time in too many years. She admired my unusual and lovely pendant. When I told her its story, her eyes grew wide. “It looks exactly like you,” and she’s right. If I’d seen it, I would have bought it.
That’s the sweetest damn thing I’ve ever read and I’m actually a bit teary now!
Right? I left out one “I know,” I just realized: I was in taking my archaeology lab courses at the time, working on flotation, which meant I spent three days a week forearm-deep in cold water mixed with shell, stone, dirt, and plant matter. I had completely stopped wearing any of my extensive collection of rings (and now, several years later, I still only wear my plain silver wedding band).
So the first “I know” was “I know you don’t wear rings,” because he’d noticed that I’d stopped.
You know those terms where you jokingly refer to someone’s significant other as an object? “Nice pull.”, “Lock that down.” etc?
Yes that only not awful. Good job finding such an excellent human. I admire your good fortune.
AGREED. I never expected to marry anyone, because why would I? Then I met this extraordinarily lovely and exceptional human being and understood why one might do this thing.
See also: our only marriage-related conversation about my name:
me: So, you know I’m not changing my name, right?
him: Oh, yeah, no, it never occurred to me that you would.
and scene.
Obviously, that’s exactly how any such conversation should go if one even feels the need for the conversation at all, but that’s not how that conversation went with annnnnnnnyone else in my life. (Which is to say, if it came up at all, it was a “but whyyyyyyyyyyy?” conversation, which NOPE NOPE NOPE NOT PLAYING THIS GAME.)
My decision long before meeting Mr. Wench was “if you care about our names matching, you are welcome to take mine” (he didn’t) Fortunately, I’ve never had any other humans question that decision to my face, that sucks.
My husband offered to take mine, and I considered it, but his is such a nice, plain, anonymous last name that _no one_ ever spells incorrectly, that I said, “Nope, I will totally be happy to take yours because it will make my life easier, not because I have to.” (Mine was a nice, normal American-Irish last name that somehow people spelled wrong about 30% of the time and it drove me nuts.) Now I don’t turn up within (at least) the first 10 pages of results when I google my name. It is glorious.
Ditto!
Ahhhhh this is exactly what we’re doing too – I felt weird being not-ok with mined diamonds but ok with other mined stones so: an entirely lab created ring it is!
All through our engagement, I consoled myself with this thought: anyone who will use the occasion of your engagement and its associated symbols to poke and prod at you would find something to poke and prod at anyhow, so you might as well do whatever feels best to you.
For us, that was no engagement ring; for you, it’s a lab diamond. For someone else, it will be an heirloom diamond.
There are times to have the hard conversations about where our traditions intersect with social justice. The time for a loving friend or family member to do that is well before someone plunks down money on a symbol of love that they expect to wear the rest of their life, or to have that conversation perhaps months or years later, but not in the first blush of excitement. That’s not a way to change minds or win converts; it’s a way to sour someone’s happiness.
My husband got me a lovely custom-made amethyst ring, and I lost it/ it was stolen from the table while I was having my nails done the day before the wedding.
How does the logic of that even work, anyway? We agreed to get married and set a date, surely that’s ‘engaged’ enough without an overpriced, arbitary symbol?
I didn’t get my proper wedding ring till the third anniversary, and I STILL TURNED OUT TO BE MARRIED.
Really? Are you sure? how do you know?
She’s slowly being encased in metal and her legs have withered.
I thought I’d read something persuasive arguing that diamond engagement rings were (in addition to the DeBeers marketing push) popularized as a de facto payment in case of breach of promise; that is, that the diamond was an informal settlement made upon a would-be bride whose fiancé dropped her before marriage, leaving her with the perception that she might have been “taken advantage of” in what was presumed to be her more effusive physical affections after engagement. But now I can’t find the research I thought I’d read.
I think I recall reading a similar thing, but I also know from reading historical literature that other engagement rings/gifts were just as common. Even then, only amongst a certain class, and plenty made no big deal about it.
Welsh men used to carve their intended a ‘Love Spoon’. They’d spend months on it, making it beautiful and ornate, and then give it to her when they asked her.
Oh, for sure! Engagement gifts are a long-standing tradition, as is the ring as a symbol of connection and loyalty. I was speaking specifically about the popularization of diamond engagement rings and how they became the expected symbol of marriage.
But as I say, I can’t track down the scholarly essay I thought I’d read. If I have time later tonight, I’ll dig around and see if I can find it, if it in fact exists.
Is it maybe “Have You Ever Tried to Sell a Diamond?”: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/print/1982/02…
It’s all about the manipulation of the market (and cultural mythology) by DeBeers to position of diamonds as THE engagement ring/the “three months’ salary” thing/”A Diamond is Forever”/international cartels/etc.
The thing I’m thinking of is more footnote-y than this, but the thing I’m thinking of might also be entirely imaginary. I’m glad you pointed out this piece; I know I’ve glanced over it but I’ll be glad to take a longer look later today.
Is this perhaps the article you read?
http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2012/…
And ditto to you everything I just said above: this isn’t the piece I’m thinking of, but I’m starting to wonder if I imagined the scholarly article I’m thinking of; my imagination is a thicket of scholarly articles that never were. Thanks for pointing this out; I read it quickly some time ago and am glad to have an excuse to re-read it.
I’m pretty sure this article does exist, perhaps in a law review, possibly on the shift from marriage-as-contract and ring as damages in case of breach to marriage-as-relationship and breach-of-promise suits being basically dead as a cause of action.
Alternately, if your engagement ring is vintage, you must get a tattoo on your chest saying “But it’s not a blood diamond”
Y’know, I was going to add “or – GASP – just buy the frickin’ diamond despite the moral sweating about it,” as we all occasionally consider our ethical options and then just buckle under the competing pressures to do right and do what is convenient instead.
But then I thought “Why even open that can of worms? The bride* who has that diamond is going to hear about it daily-to-weekly for the next year, then monthly for the rest of her life, without me pitching in and getting people riles up.”
*And I notice it is the bride who gets to answer for that, even though it’s often or even usually not the bride who bought it. In my extended social circle, this moralizing hasn’t played out – at least not publicly, and public shaming is the key here – with any dudes at the center of it. No, it’s usually women who I witness getting shamed for the perceived qualities of the diamond.
Even the two husbands who bought each other diamond tie-tacks/cuff links, I never saw them get diamond-shamed, presumably because the people who wanted to visit minor or major shame on them for whatever small-hearted reasons of their own saw more convenient things to grasp on.
I bought my ring. But that was mostly because we were cheating the system – I got to take off the VAT because I was an American bringing it home with me.
(No one gave me any VAT back for also bringing an Irishman home with me.)
“It is a Blood Diamond But It’s Vintage so Too Late Anyway”
“Everyone Involved With The Production Of This Ring Is Long Dead”
My engagement ring was the paper band off of the cigar my husband and I shared to celebrate the engagement. I wore it on my finger for one day at work, just to be able to tell everyone I was engaged and then put it in an album. I also got a lot of you can’t be engaged if you do not have a ring. I would tell people but I do. Most people understood but some would still tell me you need a real ring. No, no I do not.
I was always tempted to say, in my sweetest possible voice, to those women (always women) who certainly, pityingly told me I wasn’t really engaged because I didn’t wear a ring, “Oh, but I know my partner loves me, so I don’t neeeeeeed a ring. But I’m sure it’s very… reassuring… to have one otherwise.” And then I would remember that I am not THE WORRRRRRRST and I would not say it. But I was tempted, every time.
After my friends got engaged, I was having a conversation about how I don’t like diamonds. My roommate said, “So you would be MAD if your boyfriend gave you a diamond engagement ring??”
Like, yes! If I’m dating someone seriously enough that he’s going to propose, I hope we would’ve talked about this beforehand! There are two family rings (one ruby [my mom’s ring, my birthstone], one pink sapphire [family heirloom]) that I would actually like, and it would save him money. Ugh, diamonds.
With you. I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions (usually when one of our friends got engaged) that I hate diamonds, and if he hasn’t made a mental note of it by now he’s not thinking about marrying me as much as he says he is.
Little known fact: The phrase “Throw them ‘bows” in Ludacris’ hit song “Southern Hospitality” is actually a reference to throwing bouquets and the song is a depiction of a traditional Southern wedding
– Canon in D is played at every wedding because there is a secret society of evil musicians who want to charge you as much money as possible for as little effort as possible
– When someone references “I Say A Little Prayer” at your rehearsal dinner your best friend and future husband/wife are totally going to make out right before the wedding
-Only two entrees are served at every wedding. Any more and you will not receive any RSVP’s to your wedding because they can’t decide what to pick
It’s really too bad that the Canon is so overused at weddings now, because it’s actually a nice piece of music. And no one really knows what it was written for – for all we know, it could’ve been written to accompany funerals or blood sacrifices in the forest.
“for all we know, it couldn’t been written to accompany funerals or blood sacrifices in the forest.”
And with that mental image, my life is complete.
“blood sacrifices in the forest” canon in d has been one of my favorite pieces of music for as long as i can remember, and you just made it so much better!!!
Is it weird that one of my main focal points/goals when finding a wedding dress was that it resembled “a Regency bridal gown belonging to a lady who had died on her wedding night from consumption”.
It is not weird, it is entirely amazing.
WHAT DID YOU END UP FINDING, pictures please
Since the late middle ages, blenders have been one of the most popular wedding gifts, as they represent the hope that the newly-wed couple will be able to “blend” their two lives together quickly and with only momentary pain.
There is generally a tall cake at a wedding. Not only does this reduce the likelihood that the guests will cannibalize each other, but it also acts as an antennae to broadcast the marriage to space creatures in the nearby stars; after being privy to the ceremony of human love, the space creatures become so disgusted that they die (if it were not for weddings, they would have overrun us long ago). The cake is then hastily eaten before the space creatures can trace the signal for any sort of retribution, allowing the newly-weds to live the rest of their lives in utter secrecy.
It is a tradition for a young boy to carry the ring to the betrothed couple on their wedding day. This pays tribute to the first ever marriage, when a Hobbit brought the ring to the Dark Lord Sauron and his wife-to-be Mount Doom.
If/when I get engaged and random facebook “friends” clamor for pictures of the ring I completely intend to post of pic of The One Ring.
but it also acts as an antennae to broadcast the marriage to space creatures in the nearby stars
ahahahahah wedding cake as axis mundi ahahahahahaha WE BROADCAST OUR RITUALIZED LOVE TO THE GALAXY BEHOLD US AND SHUDDER
I upvoted this after reading the first paragraph but really wish I hadn’t, cause I want so badly to upvote it again after the bit about Sauron’s wedding.
Someone write the fic of the ill-fated love of Sauron and Mount Doom, undone by their own wedding.
The bride and groom cut the cake as one so that they can use the giant knife together to battle the souls of old lovers past as they escape their frosted prison.
There’s a photo from my wedding where this is the only possible explanation of my expression and feverish grip on the knife.
I guess the only possible explanation is that I know about this tradition, but my husband does not, since he’s gently trying to pry it out of my hand.
It is beautiful and noble that you protected him in this way. Unless he inhaled an evil spirit and is biding his time…
Welcome to Night Vale.
And now, for the weather.
It would have been amazing if this came out last year at this time. I was in the middle of a complete wedding panic attack/meltdown.
Fortunately, once you’re married, you’ll be able to time-travel back to last year and reassure your past self.
What, you didn’t know marriage endows the ability to time-travel? Why do you think so many people get married, anyhow?
Do be cautious of the paradoxes, though. That’s just a mess and also muddles the etiquette of writing all those thank-you notes.
I made the mistake of putting off the thank-you notes, knowing that I could just travel back in time on a whim and mail them. Not only did I long ago forget what everyone gave me, but I’m also not sure whether the thank-you notes will be delivered to the proper time continuum.
“When proposing, the groom-to-be gets down on one knee so that in case of rejection, the bride can more easily snap off the GtB’s head, praying mantis-style.”
Bad luck if he dies, bad luck if he doesn’t die (and you have to go through with the wedding); better just to be a solitary witch.
The bride and groom feed each other cake because marriage joins their stomachs as one, and so to sate one’s hunger is to sate the other’s.
Isn’t it just so romantic??
“WE don’t eat crab anymore, do WE? OUR stomach doesn’t care for it.”
When the bride/groom smash slices of cakes into each others faces, it is to mark their territory. Like dog pee on a tree, this rule only applies for one day so you must do it daily or else your marriage is annulled. If you happen to get some on a bystander, they too, become your property.
Ghoooooooooost!
If someone exclaims, “We’re getting married!” and your deepest heart silently replies, “Oh Christ, so what?” you will find yourself encased in the marital metal alongside the bride.
Some of us awaken to find that the night wind has blown cobwebs against our windows to spell out, in eldritch moon sigils, the notice that we have become part of the Society of Savvy Dames Who Skip Wedding Showers. Ours the art of the note offering graceful regrets, the gentle bliss of skipping the “wear a hat!” tea, the silent envy of those bound by ritual to note down who sent the tea towels and who the mixer attachment; ours the free afternoons.
I was once a groomsmaid, and as such was expected to attend multiple pre-wedding events for both bride and groom. I declined half of them, which was apparently scandalous. I did shell out for the giant pouf-y dress though (same as the bridesmaids but in black, and without asking I added a velvet wrap that they all coveted as they shivered in sleeveless gowns). It came in handy for many subsequent Halloween costumes.
At first I read this as “I was once a bridesman” (ie, my mental image swapped the gender-crossing directionality) and had very happy thoughts of one fine-looking drag attendant standing out in a sea of pastel.
The correct reading also sounds like you looked delightfully fierce.
I’m not 100% sure if you’re writing this from the perspective of a bride or a perennial guest to several friends’. Either way, it seems perfect, since I have recently officially resolved to attend zero more showers, with a possible face-saving exception for the ones that happen on-the-clock.
I have attended showers; I have even, in a past filled with its share of youth and folly, foisted the tea-with-hats on others. And I have now identified and informed the friend who is responsible, in the event of my leaving the sea, growing legs, and marrying a mortal, for making sure there is no shower.
I think we need a ‘your culture is terrible’ on weddings, because guys what the everliving is a ‘bridal shower’, it sounds like the pits of hell. Also bridesmaids buy their OWN DRESSES?
You are my hero, I'm just saying.
May you have as many mops on hand as you need to clean up all the exploded heads.
This is marvelous. If Mr. Harlot and I ever get married, we might do this.
Yessssssssssssssssssssss omg
(typo:”general” is probably supposed to be “generally” oh god sorry I hate being this person, but hopefully since these comments are reviewed by mods before posting it won’t be public but you’ll get to see it?
I was a flower girl 3 times by age 11. My greatest wish is to start a flower girl boot camp to train the sub-par flower girls infecting the marriage circuit as of late. It have a Toddlers and Tiara’s meets G.I. Jane feeling.
Only with more crying.
I was a flower girl 3 times by age 11. My greatest wish is to start a flower girl boot camp to train the sub-par flower girls infecting the marriage circuit as of late. It have a Toddlers and Tiara's meets G.I. Jane feeling.
Only with more crying.
So many people in my life could barely wrap their heads around the idea that *vagina-having* does not equal *insatiable lust for shiny rings*. In fact before we were in engaged, I had a nightmare wherein my SO got down on one knee in public and presented me with a ring. I told him about it, just in case he didn’t realize how much of a nightmare that would be for me. He was like, “god no, I know you”. We got each other engagement bags (really nice leather briefcases that have 100 year warranty) to celebrate.
Those who knew me and my feminist ways were like “who proposed?” or “did you propose?” and were still a bit surprised when I was like, “um, we both did? I guess? We just sort of had conversations as we got to know each other and eventually we decided to start planning a wedding.” I know it’s not all dramatic, but I don’t want my life to be a series of shocking reveals. “I had no idea he was even thinking of marriage!!!” or “I kept dropping hints”. Blech, no thanks. In fact mostly it was him going, “what do you think?” and me going “do not talk to me about this yet”, then “ok, well what about THIS problematic aspect of marriage” or “all these wedding traditions are stupid and don’t make sense” and him going “We don’t have to do that. We can do whatever. Yes, marriages CAN be “x” but we haven’t had a relationship like that yet and we can work NOT to end up “x””.
Gentle readers, I married him.