If fabulosity ever comes with a side of crazy, this would be the time.
PHOTO Wendy HungIt’s that time again! Exactly one year ago, I attended one of my friend’s French countryside wedding. This weekend, her brother is getting married and I’m his witness. No, there’s no escaping. For a 35-year-old singleton living in the most romantic city in the world, this might constitute as a total nightmare. So here’s how I’m mentally preparing. Yes, it takes a lot of packing waterproof makeup and talking to myself in front of the mirror.
First, create drama with everyone around me. There’s something about the build up of a wedding, especially if you’re best friends/floormates/neighbors with the bride-and-groom-to-be. Even if you’re not super involved with the wedding planning process, you still know every single detail because you’re around these friends everyday. Something about weddings make single girls just a little bit more giddy than usual, and a lot more crazy too. I somehow had beef with everyone during the weeks leading up to the wedding. It felt right to speak the truth, it felt good that I was justified. And my justification of all the drama is: let’s get it out of the way before the wedding so the actual day will be nothing but pure celebration. Confession: I have no more drama to give. Zip. None.
When the wedding is an actual weekend, it means packing a lot of dresses for Friday, Saturday AND Sunday. Day and night. Of course, I ordered the most important dress to wear for the church online. Of course, the dress arrived and the zipper refused to zip except once. Panic mode! Calling all backup dresses in the City of Light! Fortunately, my friend Camille – a fashion designer – invited me to her house to try on a plethora of dresses in her gem of closets. I literally just came back from her place after landing several back ups that might look even more fabulous than the one I ordered online. They’re DVFs, all designed by Camille when she worked in the fashion house’s New York office years ago. Score!
A weekend in the countryside also means that Wi-Fi will be very limited so I won’t be working (thanks to Team JST for keeping the boat afloat!) Besides preparing to work like a dog and grinding 18-hour workdays prior to the wedding, I’m also prepared to drink A LOT at the wedding. Leading to my next point: sticking to one kind of alcohol! It’s a French wedding, so all kinds of wines will be served. And very good bottles too. Knowing me, I’ll be classy and stick to champagne. 14 hours of it straight will keep my head in the clouds, my feet on the dance floor and non-stop giggles is a qualified prediction.
Attending a wedding in your thirties without a plus one isn’t the most ideal situation. Especially when you’re going a wedding where you know pretty much all 150 guests in attendance, there isn’t much of a chance of startlingly meeting Mr. Right. When I was young, I definitely didn’t have this image in my head as a luminous future. But I’ve spent hours staring at myself in the mirror, reassuring the Wendy that I see is living a pretty sweet life! Who cares if she doesn’t have a plus one. She’s got it, she owns it. I’ve self-helped so much in front of the mirror that the Wendy I see and the Wendy I feel inside are finally starting to gel as one. Now, I’m ready to have a good time. At last!
You might’ve thought I have it all together. You might’ve thought I live the most fabulous life. After reading this, you might think I’m a whole lot of crazy. But I’m honest. And that’s the beauty of being a single thirty-something going to her best friends’ wedding. You speak the truth, you feel it out and you shake it off. Because behind every girl who appears put together, there’s always a side of crazy. And I don’t think that’s anything to be sorry about.
Off I go, wish me luck!
