A few weekends ago, I went where few college students should ever go: the 2008 Baltimore Bridal Expo. This trip was not a result of my or my friend's impending marriage, so everyone breathe easy. My best friend from high school is a Women and Gender Studies Major at American University, and is doing her senior project on the wedding industry, so our involvement was purely academic. Nevertheless, the experience went beyond academic engagement (no pun intended), triggering a good bit of confusion.
The Expo took place on the third floor of the Baltimore Convention Center, right above a cheerleading competition. After signing in at a ticket booth that reminded me of a booth found at a carnival, we walked past a large pile of heart shaped "bride-to-be" pins and into an area filled with vendors all ready to cater to the ideal day that leads to ideal happiness.
Before attending, my idea of the expo involved a collection of bakers, florists and wedding dress makers. In fact, dresses had the least to do with it. There was only one vendor devoted to white silk and lace, but there were multiple vendors selling dental caps, real estate and airbrush makeup. The expo became less about the event itself and the lifestyle that surrounds the "Marital Super Bowl" (as someone described it to me). When approached that way, the wedding isn't only a symbolic ritual of transition it is a physical passing, an entrance to a tangibly new way of life.
As part of her process, my friend has bought a pseudo-engagement ring, so she could interact with vendors in an immersive way. As such, I assumed the role of maid-of-honor in order to add another dimension of observation. If I mentioned to a salesperson that I was a maid-of-honor, I was simultaneously revered and pitied. One person even bowed to me. It seems as though I had more purchasing power than even the bride, given my position as confidant, advisor and basically second-in-command. Vendors shared their top of the line material with me, willingly doling out DVDs that my bride friend wasn't offered, encouraging me to convince my bride to up her wedding costs. I was told that it was my responsibility to ensure the bride's happiness, so I should make sure to go with the invitations with heavier card stock.
Here are over a hundred people telling me that it is my feminine duty to plan a perfect day (or in this case, the bride's perfect day). There were references to respecting the man (for instance, congratulating the few guys at the expo on the day of the Super Bowl), but mostly this was a woman's world, where purchasing power was in our hands.
Despite the fact that the things being shoved at me included polyester lace, processed sugar and stripper poles (don't ask), I couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of perverted version of "feminism," where decisions could be made by women and they could assert their opinions and tastes.
Then I remembered that it was businesses telling me this, specifically in a context whose history extends back to the inclusion of a dowry. Then I felt better about myself, for not completely falling for the whole wedding thing. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate the feelings and joy that surrounds the idea of a wedding. I think I just resent the mass marketing and homogeneity emphasized by businesses.
Then, this weekend, I was speaking about my experience to a friend, and we together wondered who is at fault for this overwhelming industry. Her position, was that the wedding industry is a product of traditional desires that is stoked and transformed by the demands of women. It's as though the bacteria of tradition get some sugar of commerce and run wild. The idea is that this monster is built off of the basic supply/demand relationship, where I'm not so sure that we women are totally responsible for this mess.
While a person can be very sensible, people tend to be easily persuaded, and I think that the wedding industry preys on the social group-think produced by a wedding culture. Businesses seemingly unrelated to the wedding ritual (see: botox for the mother of the bride) create a giant web in which almost any self-respecting woman can get caught. I can accept that we as women are culpable for creating the million options in strapless princess dresses, but I'm not entirely sure if we're equally as responsible for the message that our beauty is never enough.
