Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Clear and Present Danger
Dicky and I went gift shopping for the Miranda Devine wedding last week. Naturally, there was a DJ's Bridal Register to consult. But as it turned out we had left our run too late and six weeks out from D-Day, only the dregs are left: a white bath mat and a pistol-grip cheese knife. Sources say that all the "good" gifts had been snapped up 3 weeks after the invitations went out! Excuse me?? Who are these enthusiastic and organised wedding guests?!
Cue: a stricken dash around the CBD to the sound of Peer Gynt. Myer incidentally, was having one of its Biggest! Ever! Sale! in History! sales - can there be any greater scene of indignity than dozens upon dozens of women doing battle over bargain bins of underwear? I think not. Meanwhile, unable to find the wedding gift bargain bin, we stumbled across the most vulgar piece of glassware ever manufactured. Imagine, if you will, a thick round glass plate, from which rises a glass tube, a metre in height and 15 centimetres in diameter ending in a giant goldfish bowl attachment at the top. Bong or vase - who could tell? All I knew was that for a hundred bucks, the look on the bride's face would have been worth every cent. Against my better judgment, Dicky refused to have any part in the purchase of the bong vase, scapegoating his girflriend by saying that he'd promised her not to get any gag gifts. The rest of our search provided slim pickings. Chief among the candidates: a yellow tea pot covered with violets - kind of like your granny's nightgown, only in teapot form; and a lurid pink, butterfly shaped candy dish. As my levels of sanity are inversely proportional to time spent in homewares departments, only the fact that the groom is a cherished friend saved him from becoming the owner of a butterfly shaped candy dish.
We have settled on an Alessi platter - but not that ugly one with the little boy/girl shapes cut out of it. (MSB got one for his his birthday ages ago and it has pride of place in his living room so I can't censure it to his face but by god, it's ugly. For that same birthday, he also got a thin white tie from his girlfriend at the time. Boy, is he lucky I came along). Anyway, it's just as well we said "nay" to the candy dish because we've just been told that weddings gifts not bought off the register had to be white or beige to match the intended decor of their house! What the FUCK? How dare this woman drag our friend to live in a white and beige house? He, who dressed up as Henry VIII for his 21st complete with hose and wenches. He's not white and beige, he's red and gold damask! Speaking of, the groom is a huge anglophile and has a particular love for mediaeval English history. I had thought about getting him a jousting helmet from this cool store on George Street but I guess it wouldn't have been a gift they could both share. Unless they're into role-playing, of course. Arggghhh. *Stabs out mind's eye*.
This wedding must be stopped. And if it can't be, I will at least have a good bash at it. It would be damned negligent of me not to. I'm meeting himto interfere for dinner tomorrow night, so fingers crossed. Because friends don't let friends marry insipid, Miranda Devine loving milquetoasts. And friends generally don't stand idly by while friends do things which are liable to end in them becoming bitter and unhappy and dull as piss in a beige and white hell of their own making. Not without a fight!
UPDATE - 14 November 2006
Well, my powers of persuasion weren't what they used to be because the Miranda Devine wedding came and went. My friend explained at our dinner when I asked him (a) why he was getting married; (b) why was he marrying Fiancée Girl in particular and; (c) whether he was absolutely sure on both counts, that he was just ready. He'd had a lot of rather satisfying relationships of the sort that allowed him to sow his wild oats, as it were, and with that out of his system he was just ready to settle down.
Their wedding was actually quite fun. I had the worst case of butterflies before and during the ceremony (probably due to desperate anticipation of some divine, rather than Devine, intervention that would put a stop to the nuptials) but it was reassuring to see that the bride seemed genuinely in love and happy to be marrying my friend - and so she should be. I give 'em 3 years.
|
Dicky and I went gift shopping for the Miranda Devine wedding last week. Naturally, there was a DJ's Bridal Register to consult. But as it turned out we had left our run too late and six weeks out from D-Day, only the dregs are left: a white bath mat and a pistol-grip cheese knife. Sources say that all the "good" gifts had been snapped up 3 weeks after the invitations went out! Excuse me?? Who are these enthusiastic and organised wedding guests?!
Cue: a stricken dash around the CBD to the sound of Peer Gynt. Myer incidentally, was having one of its Biggest! Ever! Sale! in History! sales - can there be any greater scene of indignity than dozens upon dozens of women doing battle over bargain bins of underwear? I think not. Meanwhile, unable to find the wedding gift bargain bin, we stumbled across the most vulgar piece of glassware ever manufactured. Imagine, if you will, a thick round glass plate, from which rises a glass tube, a metre in height and 15 centimetres in diameter ending in a giant goldfish bowl attachment at the top. Bong or vase - who could tell? All I knew was that for a hundred bucks, the look on the bride's face would have been worth every cent. Against my better judgment, Dicky refused to have any part in the purchase of the bong vase, scapegoating his girflriend by saying that he'd promised her not to get any gag gifts. The rest of our search provided slim pickings. Chief among the candidates: a yellow tea pot covered with violets - kind of like your granny's nightgown, only in teapot form; and a lurid pink, butterfly shaped candy dish. As my levels of sanity are inversely proportional to time spent in homewares departments, only the fact that the groom is a cherished friend saved him from becoming the owner of a butterfly shaped candy dish.
We have settled on an Alessi platter - but not that ugly one with the little boy/girl shapes cut out of it. (MSB got one for his his birthday ages ago and it has pride of place in his living room so I can't censure it to his face but by god, it's ugly. For that same birthday, he also got a thin white tie from his girlfriend at the time. Boy, is he lucky I came along). Anyway, it's just as well we said "nay" to the candy dish because we've just been told that weddings gifts not bought off the register had to be white or beige to match the intended decor of their house! What the FUCK? How dare this woman drag our friend to live in a white and beige house? He, who dressed up as Henry VIII for his 21st complete with hose and wenches. He's not white and beige, he's red and gold damask! Speaking of, the groom is a huge anglophile and has a particular love for mediaeval English history. I had thought about getting him a jousting helmet from this cool store on George Street but I guess it wouldn't have been a gift they could both share. Unless they're into role-playing, of course. Arggghhh. *Stabs out mind's eye*.
This wedding must be stopped. And if it can't be, I will at least have a good bash at it. It would be damned negligent of me not to. I'm meeting him
UPDATE - 14 November 2006
Well, my powers of persuasion weren't what they used to be because the Miranda Devine wedding came and went. My friend explained at our dinner when I asked him (a) why he was getting married; (b) why was he marrying Fiancée Girl in particular and; (c) whether he was absolutely sure on both counts, that he was just ready. He'd had a lot of rather satisfying relationships of the sort that allowed him to sow his wild oats, as it were, and with that out of his system he was just ready to settle down.
Their wedding was actually quite fun. I had the worst case of butterflies before and during the ceremony (probably due to desperate anticipation of some divine, rather than Devine, intervention that would put a stop to the nuptials) but it was reassuring to see that the bride seemed genuinely in love and happy to be marrying my friend - and so she should be. I give 'em 3 years.
|
