Indignities suffered by bridesmaids

thank God I didn't have to deal with wearing an ugly bridesmaid gown on top of everything else

I have just finished being a bridesmaid for the third and probably final time, as all of my siblings and close friends are married, and I am currently hunched over my keyboard at work, makeup-less and haggard, nursing pain in my shoulders, arms, and back for some reason, and thinking about all the awful things I had to endure yesterday as a bridesmaid.

Groomsmen have to spend a lot of money to rent a tuxedo or a 2-3 piece suit, and those can get hot during warm weddings, but their misery is nothing compared to ours. I have gone to hell and back.

My brother got married on a mountain, and it rained throughout. I was wet, cold, and shivering for most of the event, except for when I was seated in the reception tent next to a heater set to full blast. That's that I was wearing leggings under my dress. My sister could not, as her dress had a slit in it. When we were carted to and from the bridal suite on golf carts by the event staff (greatly appreciated and vastly better than walking in our heels), we were splashed by the falling rain and the water on the ground, and the ups and downs of the cart route meant we were in constant fear of falling off of it. Once my sister (also a bridesmaid) and I sat in the back seat, and the rain dripped off the roof at the center in a fairly solid stream, which my sister tried to deflect with an umbrella, but the stream just ran off the umbrella into my lap. I almost didn't notice due to how cold it was. It was about 50 degrees Fahrenheit at that point. Both entering and departing the golf cart soaked my long dress's hem, and I spent the entire wedding with about 3-6 inches of my dress hem wet. The rain frizzed my hair. At one point we had to take bridal party photos next to the barn the ceremony took place in, and the rain ran off the roof and down my back into my bridesmaid gown. I had to change my position for the picture and the rain hit my shoulder and ran down my chest into the front of my gown. At no point were we allowed to wear our coats during the picture taking. It was anywhere from 50 to 38 degrees that day, and you could see people's breath. One girl already had a cold; no allowances were made for her.

 My sister was married only a couple of miles from our brother's venue on the same mountain, a few days later than yesterday's wedding date (albeit six years before), and it was very bright and sunny. I got a sunburn on my back and shoulders, and the bridesmaid gown's straps left a pale, prominent crisscross pattern on my lobster back.

In the last wedding I was in, my other brother's, I wore these elegant high heels in my perfect nude shade. I forgot to bring flats, so I had to stay in them during the entire wedding, and my toes were numb for a month. I specifically spent several weeks looking for comfortable nude high-heeled sandals for this wedding, determined not to experience that level of discomfort again. The new shoes I bought were light tan high-heeled sandals by Naturalizer, a very good brand specializing in comfortable shoes. They have a medium-height heel with a 1-2 cm thickness at the front part of the shoe in order to alleviate the height of the heel, a sturdy construction with a padded insole. They hurt my feet anyway. I do think it is important to get high heels that will support and cushion your feet as much as comfortable, but human beings are not meant to wear high heels for hours on end, and that is sadly expected of women at formal functions. For my sister's wedding, we wore flats with a small stacked wedge heel. They still hurt my feet. Also uncomfortable: shapewear.

There have been myriad articles written about the expected tasks of bridesmaids, who must pay upwards of $100 for their bridesmaid dresses, as well as shoes and other accessories, as well as pay for travel expenses and presents for both the wedding and the bachelorette party (which they often plan, and for which there can be an entrance fee, depending on where it is held). Buying a bridesmaid dress from a wedding clothing retailer sucks because they're $100-200+, and being given a swatch of fabric and told to find a dress that matches that color sucks because you spend hours scouring the racks at discount and department stores, and it gives you a slight PWSD (post wedding stress disorder) for months afterwards, causing you to twitch every time you see a dress on the rack that could have been a possible bridesmaids dress for months afterwards. I paid $75 plus tip for a shampoo, haircut (trim) and blowout. I am very lucky in that my mother paid for my manicure and pedicure and my bridesmaid dress for every sibling's wedding that I have been in. Some bridesmaids are expected to pay for a professional hairdresser and/or makeup artist to beautify them for the wedding.

No one has written about the awkwardness of sharing a small room or cabin with several other women one does not know very well, having to change and be in various states of undress in front of near-strangers, and politely maneuvering about the most coveted spots (mirrors and bathrooms) to change and do one's makeup in. It is worst if you are a sister of the groom and all the other girls are close friends of the bride and therefore naturally cliquish, or if you are a friend of the bride and all the other girls are related to her/him and/or each other, and naturally close. I usually belong to the former group, and in these instances I have thanked my lucky stars that I have a sister to share the awkwardness with. I have no idea what I would have done with myself had I not had my sister to talk to during both of my brothers' weddings. Some girls are friendlier than others, and the bride is usually too busy to be the intermediary.

Every time I have a bachelorette party to go to, I go to Victoria's Secret because I know of no other place to purchase lingerie. For some reason I feel that it is kind of embarrassing and tacky to buy lingerie at a department store (you are not immune to propaganda, etc.). Every time I purchase lingerie at Victoria's Secret, I have to lie down: one bra and one panty costs nearly as much as my car insurance monthly payment. (Worth googling: "victoria's secret prison labor" and "victoria's secret slave labor".) It is egregious. Not to mention, Victoria's Secret stores are extremely garish, loud, overtly sexual, and confusing to navigate. They are also embarrassing for anyone who has any sense of propriety, has been discouraged from thinking about sex/taught to see sex in a negative light due to a conservative religious upbringing, or is uncomfortable with sexuality in general. Unfortunately, I am all of these. I always buy a matching bra and panty because then I can cling to the belief that they will be worn as normal underclothing and not for sex. What, is that weird? This whole thing is weird, buddy. Where have you been?

It strikes me that being a bridesmaid is a perfect example of femininity in this society: very dressed up, made up, and feminine, but still doing a lot of unpaid labor, both physical and emotional, yet expected to look and act perfectly, with the goal of fulfilling some oft-maligned female position, all out of love.

Anyway, here is a bullet point list of other, more specific to me indignities that I have suffered as a bridesmaid or maid of honor:

• had to share the position of maid of honor with another girl (it's the bride's choice! But it still hurt a little)
• was extremely indignant at the other maid of honor when she got married later on and didn't have two maids of honor for fear of hurting her sister's feelings. There is no justice in life.
• another girl planned the bachelorette party for the bride (admittedly much better than I ever could have) even though I was the maid of honor
• was once excluded from a bachelorette party even though I was a bridesmaid
• looked and looked for a dress to wear as a bridesmaid in a specific color that was impossible to find on the rack, broke down and bought the dress at full price from David's Bridal, then learned another bridesmaid found her David's Bridal dress at a thrift store for a few dollars
• had to sit at the traditional long bridal party table between/next to people I did not know very well 
• had to dance at the reception as a means to encouraging wedding guests to dance. They just looked on, and I was exposed as the bad, zumba-inspired dancer that I really am
• was paired with the shortest groomsman (I'm rather tall)
• was paired with groomsmen who had little to no interest in talking to me (one even ignored me during the entire event)
• was paired with a groomsman who dropped my arm the second he was able to, like I had cooties or something
• all the groomsmen who are not related to me have girlfriends or are married (it's not their fault but I still feel a little affronted)
• tbh, movies and pop culture have put it in my head that bridesmaids frequently find romantic prospects at a wedding, whether it is with a groomsman or with a wedding guest, and this has never ever happened to me, not even once
• having to deal with the thought that the only reason I'm a bridesmaid is because I'm related to the bride/groom, and I don't have any friends
• being the tallest bridesmaid
• being the oldest bridesmaid
• being the fattest bridesmaid
• being the most single bridesmaid
• being the fattest, oldest, tallest, most single bridesmaid
• was never given the chance to be a bridesmaid in the first place

Despite all this complaining, I really do love being a bridesmaid. Being a bridesmaid is almost better than being a wedding guest, because you get to feel special and important, and it creates a faux friend group for you to be a part of. Also I love getting to be in professional photoshoots for mostly free. I love weddings; I love love. Weddings are so lovely and exciting, and I love being a part of them and of someone's special day.

Storage hacks that suck

I live in a very small house (I hesitate to call it a tiny house because those are smaller), so I am always looking out for ideas to maximize space, usually on Pinterest. I've read the vast majority of the hacks out there, and many of them are useless due to the way my house is set up. Here's what I mean:

1. Hang organizers from your doors! I have exactly two doors in my house. One is the front door, and one is the bathroom door. I am loath to hang organizers on either. It would look weird on the front door, and I have never seen or heard of anyone putting organizers on their front door. There is a towel rack attached to the back (inside) of my bathroom door, as well as some hooks, keeping me from putting a hanging organizer there. I also think it would look weird to put it on the outward side of the door, since guests (and anyone who looks through the windows) will see it. Such is my dire need of places to store my shoes that I would consider putting an over the door organizer on my bathroom door anyway, except for the main reason: these organizers always come with thick metal square hooks to hang them from the top of the door. These are always too thick to let you close the door properly, because whoever first came up with them did so in a time in which all doors had a 1/4 inch gap all around (I'm guessing) and no one has changed the dimensions since, even though now the gaps are 1/8th of an inch or less. I live alone and don't mind having the door ajar when I use the restroom, but it's awkward when guests come over. I had an over the door organizer on my bathroom door in my last apartment, and when my private father needed to use the restroom, he forced it closed and ripped twin chunks from the door frame. I was worried I wouldn't get my deposit back, but luckily the landlord didn't look up. As you can see I don't want to go through that again. Plus a non-ugly shoe organizer/rack is hard to find unless you want to spend a lot of money, which I never do. I have two closets, but they have heavy folding doors with handle pulls right in the middle of the narrow panels. It's a nightmare. 
2. Store things under your bed! Listen, my bed is approximately two centimeters from the floor. It is a nice-enough modern bed with squat plastic feet and a padded headboard that is so short it is blocked by my pillow, since I have a box spring and a mattress and I think the manufacturers assumed everyone would just use a mattress. Use bed raisers! Pinterest yells at me. My bed's squat plastic feet? Are shaped like rectangles on their sides. All bed raisers are built for round or square bed feet, even though low-slung beds have been having a moment for some years and you'd think someone would get a lightbulb over their head and make bed raisers for rectangular feet. But no, I am doomed to have (four centimeters of) wasted space under there. I briefly thought of resting the feet (plus the hidden one in the middle) on cement blocks, but what if the legs slipped off? I don't know how to make that stable. Oh, how I wish I hadn't been seduced by the low price and padded headboard and bought a bed that was actually high enough to slide my under the bed rolling organizer under. I actually wish I had had the brains to buy a storage bed with drawers underneath and a bookcase for a headboard. That would have been ideal. 
3. Hang organizers/pot lids on the inside of your kitchen cabinet doors! Do none of you have shelves in the middle of your cabinets that go all the way to the front of the cabinet? There is just not enough space there. 
4. Store dishes and pot lids vertically, or on a stacking organizer! Use shelf risers! Again, shelves in the middle of all but my below the sink cabinets. I guess I could try taking the shelf off its supports in one of my bigger cabinets, but it sounds like a pain. 
5. Use the wasted space above your doors! My ceilings are incredibly low. I can just reach up and touch the ceiling downstairs without any effort, and I've whacked the upstairs ceiling several times when taking my shirt off over my head. I think it's 6.25 feet high, and maybe 6.5 feet high downstairs. There is no space above the doorways, let alone wasted space.
6. Any kind of modification that requires actual construction: this is a rental??? I mean I wish I could install a tiny broom closet between the studs of my house, or build under-stairs shelves that you can pull out, or hang cubbies on the wall. I'm not even supposed to be using that many pushpins for my pictures. 
7. Use an old chest or trunk as a coffee table! My "living room" area is so small I can't have any coffee table at all. I have one ottoman and it's against the foot of my lounge.
8. Use the dead space behind doors! See #1. Also, my doors don't have that kind of dead space behind them. 
9. Install shelves or rails below your kitchen cabinets! Low ceilings strike again. I have narrow counters as well. 
10. This is not an impossibility, but I kind of hate articles that suggest you get all-new furniture. What do I look like, a Vanderbilt? I have half a dozen chests of drawers from 2 different childhood bedroom sets as well as the childhood bedroom set of a cousin's cousin (hand-me-down squared!). My chaise lounge and plastic storage drawer unit were inherited from my grandma, my table and chairs from my best friend when she moved, and my garment rack from my parents or my sister. The only new furniture pieces are my bed, my bookshelves, my other plastic drawer units and my kitchen cart, all of which were scooped at low prices. Do I look like I have money to buy all-clear furniture, or furniture with hairpin legs? What I get is what I have. 

Anyway. I'll stick to trying to wring as much storage space out of my tiny weird closets as I can. Share any tips you have in the comments.

Michelangelo's paintings on the Sistine Chapel ceiling

On this day, November 1, 1512, Pope Julius II unveiled Michelangelo Buonarroti's frescoes on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome for the first time. It took Michelangelo four years to paint them, and he hated it. He wrote this poem about it, which I love because it's one long complaint:

To Giovanni da Pistoia
"When the Author Was Painting the Vault of the Sistine Chapel"

I've already grown a goiter from this torture,
hunched up here like a cat in Lombardy
(or anywhere else where the stagnant water's poison).
My stomach's squashed under my chin, my beard's
pointing at heaven, my brain's crushed in a casket,
my breast twists like a harpy's. My brush,
above me all the time, dribbles paint
so my face makes a fine floor for droppings!
My haunches are grinding into my guts,
my poor ass strains to work as a counterweight,
every gesture I make is blind and aimless.
My skin hangs loose below me, my spine's
all knotted from folding over itself.
I'm bent taut as a Syrian bow.
Because I'm stuck like this, my thoughts
are crazy, perfidious tripe:
anyone shoots badly through a crooked blowpipe.
My painting is dead.
Defend it for me, Giovanni, protect my honor.
I am not in the right place—I am not a painter.

Not a painter! I love him. I went to the Sistine Chapel when I was in Italy, and it was glorious. Absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking. I'm sad he was forced to do it and that he suffered, but I think it was worth it because of the beautiful legacy he left to the world. Think of all the people who have been uplifted by its beauty.

You can read all of Michelangelo's poems here
The text of the poem is from this Slate article, which is excellent and you should totally read it
Image source
History info is from The Writer's Almanac's enewsletter for today