Skip to main contentThe 23rd annual Portland Bridal Show cold-cocked previous attendance records by luring 5,000-plus pre-nuptial junkies to the Oregon Convention Center for a midwinter weekend of froth, fashion and free cake. Welcome to the wedding cult.
It would be easy to confuse this devoted order with the domesticity cult of the Victorian era--that hallowed time when wifedom and motherhood were the summit of female ambition. The contemporary wedding cult preserves Victoriana's treacly trappings (ringlet updos, Brahms, orange blossoms), while annexing thoroughly modern vulgarities--stripper-studded Vegas bachelor parties, tropical-print cummerbunds, the Macarena. Balled together, it's an appalling pastiche that would make any thinking couple go on a crime spree. Why? Because that would be more romantic.
The fat rock in the Portland Bridal Show's tiara is a fashion show (split into 15 scenes) where matrimonial models stage various wedlocked tableaux: Small children pantomime an on-the-knees proposal; Marilyn-bleached blondes in tulle mug to "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend"; and tuxedoed bucks break it down boy-band style to Madonna's "Music."
The finale: Star-spangled wedding gowns paraded to Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the U.S.A."
This isn't a marriage. This is a prom.
In case it wasn't obvious, weddings have been ransomed to a gang of bloodthirsty vendors with diamond solitaires for eyes. The show's exhibit booths displayed a cornucopia of bridal-fetish objects you forgot you needed: pearl cleaner (check), satin boxer shorts with tuxedo bibs on the crotch (oh...OK...check), bouquets preserved for eternity in convex glass cases like chloroformed specimens (check...hey, wait a minute!). Add the florists, videographers, DJs, wedding consultants, travel agencies, stationers, caterers and cakemakers, and you've spent a year of your firstborn's Yale tuition, including Skull & Bones dues.
While roasting the bride cult is a game of whack-a-mole, the hard part is hunting for alternatives for people --women and men--who respect this time-honored ritual enough to practice it with intelligence and class.
The rebels are few but dedicated. Local designer Doris Messier, who displayed some unusually lovely vintage-inspired dresses at the show, aims to "work with you to create a gown that is truly your own"--even if (gasp) it's not white. Geranium Lake puts a fresh face on floral: "We tend to avoid those tired flowers like carnations, baby's breath, mums, leather fern and gladiolas." New website Indiebride.com vows to cut through the frosting ("the words 'fantasy,' 'Cinderella' and 'princess' are strictly banned from our pages") to offer practical legal, financial and ceremonial advice to the modern betrothed. At Indiebride.com, the online "trousseau" even hawks used bridal gear at rock-bottom prices ($200 for a designer wedding gown--worn once, of course). And magazines such as Elegant Bride and Canada's WeddingBells devote their pages to above-average editorial content (WB even dares to feature brides with pierced noses). All these resources are scrambling to respond to many people's despair of and alienation from weddings--and, by extension, marriage. Yep, that might be what's at stake. There is much work to be done.
Before long, the Bridal Show's parade of identical white frocks and the odor of past-its-prime catering food began to pall. I couldn't help sharing the empty feelings of one dejected mother-daughter team exiting the auditorium. Sniffing the air suspiciously, they screwed up their faces in identical expressions of horror. "It smells like fish," exclaimed the daughter. "Not even good fish," added her mother. Exactly.
Geranium Lake Flowers
www.Indiebride.com is a website for the independent- minded couple.
You can contact Doris Messier at 287-3142.
Bridal-industry bullet points:
Get your bride on with the eighth annual show sponsored by Weddings of Distinction.
Matisse January sale
Big ol' bargains on girly goodness at this eastside babe's boudoir. Matisse, 1411 NE Broadway, 287-5414. Until Jan. 31.
WWeek 2015