Last night at the Tribal Blogs Slumber Party we got to talking about bad hair or drunk hairdressers or maybe it was just bad marriages. I’m not really sure because the conversation was going so quickly. Anyway, I mentioned that I looked like Lucille Ball at my first wedding and of course everyone wanted to see a picture.
So I posted this
Because the conversation was going by so quickly and soon enough we were talking about Go-Girls again, I never got to explain why I looked like Lucille Ball for my wedding.
So I will now.
Don’t worry, it’s a short story.
It was a big wedding, since it was my first, and like most brides-to-be I was all about making everything picture perfect. Notice the flowers, aren’t they beautiful? The flowers were the only thing that worked out right at the wedding.
The cake was wrong, I got the wrong wine and never heard the end of it from my father, the dress ripped and of course the husband was completely wrong.
The hair should have gone right.
It didn’t because it was my wedding day that my hairdresser, who had been doing my hair forever, decided to get off the wagon. The bridesmaids and I had all met at my apartment the day of the wedding and had a mimosa. We weren’t pounding them, just one each. Not my hairdresser. He had one drink then another and then a few more by the time he got to my head. My hair was very long, which is why it is piled so much on my head. In order to not have it hanging down the only thing he could do was back comb it and then tightly curl it with a curling iron. I objected though apparently not enough because it was 15 minutes before we were supposed to leave for the church and there wasn’t enough time to fix it.
I spent those 15 minutes in my bathroom crying while my father tried to convince me, through his laughter I might add, that it looked fine. He also mentioned something about Lucille Ball being a beautiful woman at one point which only made me cry more… which made my mascara run.
I had to brace myself so I didn’t fall forward from the weight of all that hair in the front of my head.
The wedding itself went off without a hitch but the reception was overwhelming to me. I suspect I knew I had made a mistake and if I didn’t I surely did when my new husband dropped a ball and chain onto the wedding party table as we were making toasts. I kept my mouth shut, made a toast or two and then headed to the bathroom to take off my pantyhose and shoes which were killing me, if my hair hadn’t thrown me so I would have thought to grab a pair of jeans so I could change into something comfortable, but I wasn’t thinking. I then went down to the pool house where all the wait staff were getting high and hung out with them for the rest of the evening. Interestingly, ten years later I married one of the waiter’s best friend, though he did not introduce us.
So, what wedding disaster stories do you have to share?