You’ve seen docks collapse under bridal parties, microphones grabbed during ill-conceived speeches, and drunken relatives careen headfirst into tables. You’ve heard tales of allergic reactions, wardrobe malfunctions, and that one time an ex-boyfriend decided he simply could not, under any circumstances, forever hold his peace.
But what happens when you’re the matrimonial miscreant? (Hey, it happens to the best of us – yours truly drunkenly burst into tears at a rehearsal dinner. At which I was a plus-one. But that is a story for another day.)
Here’s how to handle any awkward wedding scenario your raging hormones/13 edible flower-garnished cocktails throw at you with the poise and eloquence of Justin Beiber’s PR team.
So you’re late for the ceremony.
Whether your Uber driver missed an exit or your squad of lovable sloths couldn’t get their act together in time, you’ve somehow managed to be late for the wedding.
If there’s a wedding planner, find her. She won’t be thrilled, but she’ll help you squeeze into the back row unnoticed. If there’s no one in charge, wait until the bride has been given away before slipping into a pew. The last thing you want is to accidentally join the procession.
And whatever you do, don’t make a big deal about it. Resist the urge to exaggeratedly tiptoe down the aisle looking like a walking grimace emoji, hissing “Sorry!” to a bunch of people you don’t know. The bride does not want to dwell on your tardiness, nor does she care to know that you effed-up the timing of a ceremony she spent tens of thousands of dollars on because you “forgot your phone in the Airbnb.”
So you’ve worn a dress you swear is blush but it shows up snow-white in the photos.
First off, if you’re planning on attending a wedding in a light frock, do yourself a favor and take a photo of it with and without flash. (We don’t want another Dresspocalypse situation on our hands now, do we?)
But if you’re mid-reception, realizing your lacy, pale-pink number is looking hella bridal through a lens, try not to panic. If you’re close enough with the bride, jokingly point out the optical illusion. (Chances are, she’ll laugh. Maybe.) Otherwise, wait til the photos start flooding in before jumping in with a witty comment (“Is it white? Is it pink? Let’s settle this once and for all. #TheDress2.0”).
So you didn’t prepare a speech…
But literally everyone is making them and you’re much closer to the newlyweds than they are and oh my god everyone is staring at you expectantly waiting for a glass clink.
Three deep, yogic breaths. Think of a story – preferably something that involves both the bride and groom. Keep it short – no one likes a meandering tale that goes nowhere (we’ll dub this the Druncle). Keep it specific – touching on his undying love of Ralph Lauren polos and her obsession with sausage-and-egg McMuffins will keep the toast from feeling too generic. Then wrap it up with something lovely someone smarter than you has said. (“Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.”) Et fin.
