The Anti-Bride Is Just the Cool Girl in a Wedding Dress.

Monique Guarino

6 hours ago

6 min read

Before I got married, I had a sprouting frustration with weddings and all the demands around them. Like the first weed poking out of a flowerbed. Although so grateful and honoured to be a part of every celebration I had been to, an internal screech sounded in my ears with every hen’s invite quoting me a minimum of $250 and requiring a complete disco-cowgirl outfit to attend.

So when it came to my turn… I proudly deemed myself an “anti-bride”.

Looking back on it, I felt very safe in this label, but 12 months on, I am not sure I feel the same. At the time, it was a haven where people were forced to see me as an individual with bigger things to care about than just “one day”. Now, I look back and dislike how much I restrained myself. I had thought that leaning into wedding culture was society asking the monkey (me) to dance for them. I've now realised I fell for the trap. I ended up doing just that by trying to keep a lid on my joy.

I know now that the term “anti-bride” is repackaged internalised misogyny. A label initially meant to represent challenging the conventional is now used to herald superiority amongst women who aren’t fussed by “trivial things”.

Over a wine with a newly engaged friend, we naturally drifted into talking about her impending nuptials. With true dismay, she admitted, “I am surprised by how much I care.”

I deeply understood this feeling. I was shocked to find myself getting dragged into the sea of wedding frenzy, trying my absolute hardest to make a rip seem like just a little wave. In your mid-twenties to thirties, your algorithm is bombarded with women fantasising, planning and reminiscing about their special day. It’s only fair that this oversaturation leads to a blooming numbness. A false sense of stoicism associated with the happiest day of your life.

My eye would twitch with every “I said yes to the dress!”, a deep sigh escaping when I saw a countdown “‘til we say I do!”. With each eye roll and a growing discourse amongst women that wedding culture is out of hand, I was being groomed.

This “anti-bride” sentiment is so loaded. The tension between the traditional and unconventional is palpable. Tactless comments are made towards the other in hopes of rationalising our own choices. I have been on the receiving end of this (and dished it out).

With a guest list of 30, on an Italian island that is heaven on earth, many had assumed, and did not mind telling me, that this wasn’t a “proper” wedding. Someone even asked, “Do you really need an elaborate dress if nobody will see it?” These flippant remarks cut deeper than I had anticipated. Off I went, emblazoned with hurt, deeming big traditional weddings a performance and a waste of money.

The origins of the “anti-bride” were rooted in the idea of unorthodox choices: a tea-length dress, no bridal party, a small guest list, a destination wedding, etc. These days, you’re more likely to see someone have a micro-wedding or a destination wedding, or both! With up to 60% of newly engaged couples in Australia planning intimate ceremonies and destination weddings making up 25% of all nuptials, how “anti-bride” can it really be to fall very seamlessly within the trend?

Every person who has ever attended a wedding has felt financially burdened. The bachelorette party is forever levelling up. A weekend trip that includes themed three-course meals, a spa day and a private Pilates class. The guilting of a pregnant girl into feeling cheap after asking if she could pay the non-alcoholic price: “No, sorry hun! We want to give the hen the special day she deserves.”

As the fiancée, you are brainwashed into being in your “bridal era”, a shopping cart with no bottom. Consider every white item of clothing with feathers, sequins or lace worth $300 or more, sold. Then there are the skin treatments, injectables, teeth whitening, personal trainer, a signature scent. I am not judging. It’s the reality. The “W” word manifests price tags that make your eyes water.

World Metrics predicts the industry will have brought in revenue of $414 billion by 2030. The siren song of an “intimate party” intensifies with the cost-of-living crisis, beckoning you to shrink to save the ones you love from the monster that is your special day. Keep quiet and try not to encroach on anyone in any way (even on social media).

People are finding ways to tame the pandemonium around weddings. Those wanting to hear more about weddings are the ones in the throes of planning the big day. Wedding content exists in an echo chamber, with only a fraction breaking out and finding its way to your algorithm. Videos spur on another bride-to-be to panic, spend and post every detail. The Engaged Army is more than eager to discuss all the minutiae in the comments section, bestowing their wisdom where possible.

Honestly, this is the perfect example of womanhood. The female population connecting over an age-old tradition. Tapping back into our roots by poring over our special day, the only thing our female ancestors were allowed to take control of once upon a time.

Talking about my wedding feels like opening Pandora’s box. I can easily tell you about the logistics (or ugly parts), spewing from my mouth too quickly to keep the thoughts in, but the most joyous parts of my wedding are locked deep inside me, too intimate to share. Protecting my perfect day at all costs.

The same can be said for the hamster wheel of content coming out of social media. Brides share the clinical, only reaching for sentimentality when discussing little aesthetic embellishments. This still doesn’t quite capture how profound and tender this ceremony is. Perhaps we are all protecting our softest parts for fear of sounding too earnest?

Everyone is guilty of cringing at the girl whose wedding is her personality. We are excited to proclaim the poor, soon-to-be Mrs a “bridezilla” for snapping when it comes to crunch time. The label is used as a vitriolic attack in the lead-up to the big day. A cautionary tale to other brides: “It’s not that deep. Don’t be crazy.”

Let me tell you, it is not easy. No matter how big the guest list or how chill you’re trying to be, this stuff is stressful. It also doesn’t help that, for many, events such as these can bring out certain sides of the people we love. Further justifying nonchalance. Galvanising your armour, preparing to go to war for what you’ve been told to dream about your entire life.

People can be so judgemental, despite every married person ever waxing lyrical: “Just do exactly what you want!”

The point I am trying to make is: there is no winning. Care too much and celebrate out loud? Everyone wants you to shut up. Care too little or choose to celebrate quietly? Everyone is a bit grateful. Not necessarily in a malicious way, but they’re absolutely relieved when you give them a reason to turn a blind eye.

We celebrate those who celebrate themselves. It does not matter how much you showed up when it was their turn; people may not necessarily think to reciprocate. Just because of life and the fog that a wedding creates. Yet still, I was left dumbfounded and a bit empty by feeling overlooked when it was a design of my own making. A gaping hole, a smidge of resentment when others were met with fierce excitement for their major milestone.

But I chose to shrink myself. We have been primed our entire lives for the end goal: marriage and kids. Every decision we make should be careening towards a fluffy white gown. No matter what, the message is the same: take up less space. Women care about silly things.

This tired misogynistic rhetoric keeps women battling with each other. The irony that I have internalised all this is not lost on me. The pull between my desires and society’s.

A year on from my own wedding, I am finally learning to soften my lens and embrace the beauty of unbridled joy. If only I could’ve drunk this in while in the midst of it all.

Sources:

Wedding RSVP, Australian Wedding Statistics & Trends (weddingrsvp.org)