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?
I had exactly the same hair scenario. When I got my studio wedding pictures taken weeks before the big day, I loved, loved, loved how the stylist did my hair. Of course, I wanted it to look exactly the same way for my wedding day.
Of course, it didn’t come out right. My sister drove me there and back to my parents’ house, where I would be getting dressed. I cried the whole way there. Cried some more in the bathroom. My maid of honor came into the bathroom and asked what she could do.
I told her “Go to your mom’s house [couple doors down] and bring me back every hair care product, curling iron and hair dryer you can find.”
She returned with an entire salon’s worth of stuff and then she and everyone else left me alone in the bathroom to fix the damage. I could hear everyone whispering out in the hallway. I think they were afraid I would slit my wrists or burn myself with the iron.
My mother was the only person allowed in again. She brought me some food, and her hands were shaking as she handed me a plate. I think it was the first time I truly scared my mother to the core.
It ended well. I fixed my style to my liking and I was very satisfied how I looked on my wedding day. But man, for a half an hour there, no one including me thought there would BE a wedding day. You just cannot get married with bad hair.
Jen, you look gorgeous in the photo!
Yeah, when I had my hair done for the practice run at the salon it looked
great. I should have taken pictures. I knew better than to mess with my hair
and thankfully one of my brides maids was able to figure out how to get the
veil on since the hairdresser didn’t go to the church like he was supposed
to to attach it.
Love the comment about the husband being completely wrong.
I once remarked to my sister that I’d never seen anyone have more fun at their own wedding, and she replied, “Oh! It was a great wedding! I wouldn’t have changed a thing about it. Except the groom.”
I like that! I’m going to use that if it ever comes up again.
For what it’s worth, your hair didn’t look that bad. Really! In hindsight, however, I might have howled if my father made that remark about Lucille Ball – the tears would have been from laugther and not distress.
I’m pretty sure I was laughing too. More so because my father was in the bathroom with me, and it was a really small bathroom. He didn’t like my husband to be at all so for him it was probably ok.
The publicist hated her hat. Her mother made her wear it.
Her uncle got drunk and tried to punch out the trombone player from the band.
But then again her uncle was always getting drunk and trying to punch someone out.
The fire whistle blew and half the guests went out to answer the call and then when they all came back they were all invited to the wedding – that was fun actually…the male person was wise and did not go on the fire call.
Hey, was that a Polish wedding, ’cause it sounds like a lot of the weddings I attended as a kid.
half…the other half was Irish
I still think you look great in that picture.
Thank you.
Well, aside from being completely certain I’d chosen the wrong person to marry (I was right about that part, by the way), while my father and I were dancing he was holding me pretty firmly as we foxtrotted and he managed to unhook my floor-length slip. I could feel it sliding down my legs and past my knees and could see it beginning to pool at my feet but we couldn’t just walk off the dance floor so my father began making throat-cutting motions at the band leader so he’d stop the music.
I can just picture this going on. I love that he didn’t want to call attention to you so he stopped the music!
Well, my wedding was unconventional in every way. I did everything for myself, including making my own wedding dress. The only thing I didn’t do for myself, though I wish I had, was make my face up. One of my sisters wanted to do it and as it was one of those ‘sister’ things, I let her. Pale lipstick was fashionable then, and I usually wore a fairly natural colour. My sister, however decided to plaster me with bright red lipstick. It looked like I had a nasty gash on my face. Thankfully it came off without making a mess, and I was able to wear my own colour. Aside from that, it all went smoothly and according to plan.
I think you looked lovely, and the hair looked fine too!
I’ve seen your handiwork so I am not the least bit surprised that you made your dress and I bet it looked stunning. What is it about brides who choose their wedding day to try new make up colors?
I sobbed like a baby at the dress rehearsal of my first wedding. I didn’t realize it then but later I think I knew I had made a huge mistake. My hair was one of the things that went right. I like your hair and the flowers. 🙂
I sobbed the next day but that was because my father told me had been diagnosed with cancer. He found out on the day of the wedding but didn’t want to tell anyone.
Let’s see, all of this happened almost 38 years ago, so I may have things remembered incorrectly. 😉 We got married in the tiny church that my great grandparents were instrumental in building. The church was PACKED. Not only did we have the wedding there, but the reception was held in the basement and everyone ate in shifts. After everything was done, I was told that the basement door couldn’t be closed during the wedding because the floor bowed so much from the weight of the amount of people that were upstairs. Thankfully, a crisis was averted and the church didn’t collapse. Scary then, amusing now.
Wowie zowie! I had prom hair like that! Sorry I missed that pic on Saturday. My connection kept getting lost, I’d be in mid sentence and the room would refresh.
I don’t have a horrible wedding story, but at my brothers wedding I was about 10, some big fat drunk guy with smoked salmon breath sucked my nose in the reception line.
I could not be more disgusted than I am right now. I hope you kicked him in the crotch for that.
No, I wish I would have, fortunately, he was about the last in line, so I could run and wash my nose. If that were to happen today.. Well, let’s just say, that would not happen today, he wouldn’t live to do it again.
I love your picture and I love the fact that you hung out with the waiters at your own reception!!!! Just curious, how old were you when you first got married? At thirty-two, I’m the last one of my friends who hasn’t walked down the aisle and I’m VERY okay with it after I hear stories like this:)
I was 24(and stupid) for my first wedding, 34 for the second. Technically I should have gotten married again last year to keep the pattern going.
You looked gorgeous even with the goofy hair. All of my weddings were pretty informal (thank God), but I did have one in a church. I have always hated weddings, even my own. They bore me and make me itchy.
I got married in an Episcopalian church so our weddings are really short, like 15 minutes. There wasn’t much time to get bored.
Oh Jen, I’m sorry the hairdresser made you cry on your wedding day! How awful for you. I’ve never been married, so I don’t have a story for you. Although, I did manage to totally ruin my brother, Adam’s, wedding – to his now soon-to-be-ex-wife.
I think you must post about that wedding. My brother’s wedding was a hoot. He’s now divorced and remarried but his wedding was one of those that will never be forgotten. Mine was boring compared to his.
I’ll have to ask my brother if he’d be too uncomfortable if I wrote about
it. And, it was NOT one of those moments in my life that I am very proud of.
Sorry no disaster story from me either. My wedding was a complete success. Everyone who was invited showed up on time, no one argued, I did my own hair and makeup, and it was OK. There wasn’t any food or beverage issues, and I bought my dress off a rack downtown on my lunch break. My secret? We got married at the courthouse by a judge with only immediate family in attendance.
By the way, the first time I read your post, I thought your title was “I canceled Lucille Ball for my Wedding.”
I wanted to get married at the JOP for my second wedding but since it was his first we opted for a nice ceremony on a bridge over Lake Superior. It was a lovely and hilarious wedding. My dress for that one was bought off the rack a week before too. Stress free wedding for the most part. The next time I get married it will be in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator.
You mean other than the obvious part about marrying the wrong guy? Actually, I made my mother cry on the day of my wedding because I wouldn’t let her use the ugly brass punch bowl (that she brought back from a trip Indonesia) at the reception. She was mortified that the guests poured lemonade for themselves out of a crystal pitcher. The only guests I really cared about were drinking wine and beer, anyway. And yes, my mom thought it was terribly tacky to have beer. I don’t know what she was complaining about… it wasn’t even a keg!
I don’t blame you one bit about the bowl. We had an open bar so people were drinking beer as well as any other kind of booze. Though we didn’t have a keg in the middle of the reception. However, I think that would be a much funner wedding.
OK, I’ve stared and stared at that picture. But I still can’t find the groom!
He wasn’t around much. And didn’t stick around for very long so it seems stupid to get pictures taken with him.
Wow! Lucille Ball hair or not, you look stunning. I always wanted to be a bride, but I never wanted to get married. It’s a conundrum.
I think that was my problem too.
My first one is that I married the wrong man. I knew inside when the jerk friend of his got up in front of my FAMILY and GRANDPARENTS and told everyone about going to the strip bar during his bachelor party… in detail. 1. my husband told me he did not go to a strip bar. So he lied. I would not have cared… so why did he lie. That was when I knew. 2. He went on and on in front of my GRANDPARENTS! This was a wedding, NOT a continuation of the bachelor party!