Tag Archives: bridezilla

The Bride Wore Black: Whack Wedding Gowns

29 Apr
Bridesmaids--or slutty looking idiots? You decide.

Bridesmaids–or slutty looking idiots? You decide.

I was a child bride, married so long ago I don’t even retain memories of the event.  After a few decades my peers caught up and started pairing off and I’ve been very lucky. I’ve never had to endure spending a bajillion dollars on some funky bridesmaid’s dress with shoes dyed to match.  Which is not to say I haven’t been tormented by being in weddings, because, oh I have.  For all three weddings I’ve been a bridesmaid-ish-sort-of-thing in I’ll admit it, I totally choked under pressure when it came down to what to wear.

In one wedding (to a friend-who-was-as-close-as-a-sister) the entire enormous wedding party was told to wear whatever they wanted as long as it was black.  Yes, black.  Hmmmm.

Wedding? Or extra fancy funeral--you decide.

Wedding? Or extra fancy funeral–you decide.

(I started wondering if I could somehow back out, but given that I’d missed her first wedding…).  So I had a seamstress copy a mauve sheath dress that I loved in black.  Only she convinced me to use this totally cool fabric that was made of some special fancy silk, but somehow managed to look a) horrible on me and b) like cheap polyester when the dress was done.  There was that funny look I got from the bride when she first saw me, but the day was about her, not me, so we pushed past it, and I ducked the cameras as much as I could.

No I did not dip my arms in a pool of black paint.

No I did not dip my arms in a pool of black paint.

With my sister’s wedding I was told to wear something champagne.  So I found a champagne pant suit.  Now, I’ve never worn a pant suit in my life, but I wore it with nylons and no undies to make sure all was smooth, if you know what I mean. The only problem was the photos.  Standing there under blazing lights I started remembering a friend’s telling me about her experience on stage where pictures taken of her in costume under super bright lights had made her cat suit costume transparent in the photos–revealing her nipples and pubic hair.  Quelle horror! What if the combo of light weight, light colored pantsuit, bright lights and no undies…ruined my sister’s wedding photos.

I could marry him, or I could bite his head off  and slurp his brains out.

I could marry him, or I could bite his head off and slurp his brains out.

I started standing like Miss U.S.A. with one leg forward, hips turned to the side, torso straight on.  Oh, and with my champagne clutch poised in my hand over my crotch.  The photographer bustled up to straighten everyone out.  He took away my clutch, turned my body, tapped my leg to get it even with the other…but by the time he got back to the camera and looked through the viewfinder I had turned again, my foot was out, and my arm was gracefully hanging like it was broken or something so it happened to dangle right over my crotch…You get the idea. I was relentless. That poor man.

The third wedding was my sister-in-law’s — we got to wear whatever we wanted.  I found a super cute tangerine pink plaid dress made of raw silk on sale for $20.00. (Silk again–will I ever learn!) Of course, during the outdoor summer wedding I got massive sweat stains under the arms while reading a poem for the ceremony.   I learned another lesson.  Blurring sweaty dark stains in photoshop fools no one but yourself.

This one is my fav.

This one is my fav.

Given how hard it is for most women to wear white on her special day, don’t you think that Vera Wang is kinda onto something coming up with black wedding dresses? I mean, it’s sorta crazy, yes, but on the other hand, it probably allows that special bride to feel very bad ass.  Because face it people, some brides just are bad ass.

And Vera doesn’t stop at black.  She’s got a wonderful color of f*** me red too.  Or–ahem–champagne.  Do you think that she was facing another season of wedding dresses and had some kind of nervous fit?  “Agh! My God–all that white! I can’t take it anymore!!!!”

Grrrr.

Grrrr.

Her collection still won’t save you from a funky bridesmaid dress experience, but it’ll add an edge to the proceedings for sure.

For some people–with their snark-o-friends, their exes, and complicated lives full of schadenfreude–a black dress makes the perfect statement of bouquet chewing bridezilla-esque angst and fury.  But black minimizes all those bulges and bumps, so it doesn’t matter if the bride looks like Theresa Russell in Black Widow, Vera’s bride who wore black is sure to become the Next Big Thing.

Here are a few more photos. I can’t help myself, I am as always —

Jaclyn--is she in mourning for her life?

Is she in mourning for her life? Because that’s a LOT of kids!

obsessed with all things wedding & unnatural.  My first romance manuscript is about a bridezilla who experiences humiliating wedding fail then runs off to Paris with a hot wedding guest and winds up finding true love.  At her wedding she can’t stop thinking about her family–killed in a sick tragedy, she mourns them.  I don’t think she’d ever wear a black wedding dress–but given where her heart’s at, it would be an expressive statement of her true feelings on her Big Day.

Meanwhile, below are the red and champagne wedding dresses.  Delish!RedChampagne

Here Comes the Bride…zilla

18 Feb

fetishI swear I didn’t mean to do it.  I didn’t have any idea who Kim Kardashian was when I picked her as a model for my heroine Becky Warfield while writing my first erotic romance novel, BE MY BRIDEZILLA.

I knew I wanted to try writing an erotic romance.  I did write one–and an editor at a major publishing company wanted it, but the publisher of her imprint said ‘maybe’, then ‘nah’.  I was sooooo close.

WHEN LIFE IS LIKE REALITY TV Casting around for another idea, I saw a Bridezillas commerical and inspiration struck.  The ad had a sexy bride in full satin gloves. She was throwing spaghetti in the face of a chef, screaming at him.  Someone needed to tame that Amazon bzilla!  Take her down a notch or two and get her off at the same time.  Thus BE MY BRIDEZILLA was born. It had all the elements I wanted in an erotic romance–witty dialogue, luxurious surroundings, a hot brooding hero who was smart and had it (almost) all together.  Also some kinky-lite sex in it, with a lot of smouldering intensity.

visionJACKIE CHAN Vs. BRUCE LEE Around the time I was casting about for an erotic romance idea, Nora Roberts had this bride quartet romance coming out.  I wanted to throw each book at the wall.  But I was in Barnes & Nobel and they don’t like it when patrons start lobbing projectiles across the Starbucks cafe.

My problem with each book is that they were all about the perfect wedding. People, I’ve been to weddings.  They are NOT perfect.  I’ve seen a lot of gritted teeth under those veils. I’ve seen brides who gave inn keepers PTSD,  I’ve been a guest–one of many–hiding from the bride on the other of the tent for an entire wedding.  So I wanted to write an anti-Nora novel.  I wanted it to be kinda funny, too.  Like Jackie Chan, who wanted to do the opposite of everything Bruce Lee did, where Nora got sad, I got funny.  Where Nora had pathos, I had a hawt wedding cake fight.

She does wear white a lot, doesn't she?

She does wear white a lot, doesn’t she?

But I usually use actors for physical inspiration. Who was I going to use as the model for my bridezilla?   For instance, John Krasinski is the model for Braden, the hero, and Ryan Kwanten is my inspiration for Spencer, the hapless groom. I saw a picture of someone in a magazine and thought to myself: she’s the one. But taller.  It turned out that the woman I was looking at was Kim Kardashian.

In my novel, Becky walks down the isle feeling more alone on her wedding day than she’s ever felt before.  The groom is gorgeous, he has an amazing old house, he lives in a beautiful area, and at bottom, he’s a truely sweet guy–so everything should be right in her world.  It’s not.  She knows it and tries to fight off her knowledge, which results in some spectacularly bad behavior.

Then Kimmy met Kris Humphries, and the rest was 72 days of history.  17 million dollars later, she’s reviled by the public.  She has another man’s bun in her oven. I feel ever-so-guilty that in some weird way, by picking her as the model for my Becky, I jinxed her.  Because let’s just say that in my novel (and in the sequel) Becky’s fate bears a striking similarity to Ms. Kardashian’s.

72 daysMISTAKES, I’VE MADE A FEW…Having done a lot of research for this book, I know that Kim is not alone.  30% of brides these days walk down the isle with strong doubts in their heads that the marriage will survive.  Like Becky, like Kim, they’re swept away.  The fairy tale fantasy wedding and meeting others expectations plays a big role in these mistakes.  “But he’s such an amazing guy, who am I not to love him?” plays another part in these mistakes.  The horror of disappointing everyone and the knowledge that second thoughts, cold feet, pre-wedding jitters are common–all this can fight against calling the wedding off.  The end result keeps lawyers in porches.

johnnyboyBecky ends her marriage before all the wedding cake is gone, and she instantly winds up with another guy—in this case a hot wedding guest, the groom’s cousin.  They run away to Paris together in a slightly drunken fit of rebellion against the whole family clan.  He comes to his senses first and tries to put the brakes on their rebound fling.  Becky, however, has finally found her inner compass.  She knows what she wants with all her being: him.  She decides to take her revenge by turning up the sizzling heat between them while she’s his “guest” in Paris.

SETTING THE BAR HIGH: So here’s where life and the curious workings of fate come together again.  I realized only after I finished my novel that there’s a gap between what actually happens in life (i.e. Kim’s path) and what readers wanna read.

ryanWhen I first imagined my hero, the idea was that he’d been to one too many Southern weddings and had seen one too many bridezillas.  That combined with a kinky interest in spanking had led him to some bridezilla-spanking fantasies.  When he sees Becky throwing platters of shrimp off a balcony, and sees her curvalicious bod, she becomes the focus of his fantasy.  BUT I soon realized that selling this bridezilla romance was going to be a tad difficult.  I guess it sounds like he’s got a bride-spanking fetish.  Hmmgnndhn…fetish is a strong word.

In my mind the hero was just sort of adapting to his conditions–staving off boredom, etc.  I didn’t exactly think of it as a fetish, exactly.  A really weird fetish.

There was also the problem of Becky being married.  I was too new to the biz when I wrote the novel to know that readers simply hate adultery in romance. Yet to me it was like: how do you write contemporary romance if you don’t have strong barriers in the way of their getting together? I work around the adultry issue, but in the end, I collected a few flattering, very nice rejections for my bridezilla book.

BridezillasI BREAK WITH THEE, I BREAK WITH THEE, I BREAK WITH THEE…By the time I went to pitch my work at a romance conference in New Jersey, I was on the cusp of giving up.  Maybe I could take the bridezilla stuff out? Maybe I could take out the kinky-lite sex? Maybe I could have the hero and heroine have an initial encounter and then have a One Year Later…?  I would be gutting the book, essentially. I was so apathetic about the project that I didn’t even pitch it.

LIFE IS SO MUCH STRANGER THAN FICTION…Imagine how I felt when I was sitting in the audience of an editor’s panel towards the end of the day and Treva Harte from Loose-Id started talking about their new submissions call: I DO…UNLESS I DON’T.

LooseIdThey were looking for wedding-gone-wrong scenarios.  They were looking for hot erotic sex, they were looking for a happily-ever-after, even if it wasn’t the original bride n groom pairing.  My jaw dropped.  A publisher was actually having a call for my book.  Broken wedding? Great.  Adultery? You bet. Bridezilla spanking fetish? Yay!

So I’ve sent BMB off to Loose Id.  I feel like I should drink some champagne.  Even if they don’t accept it. Even if they accept it and want me to change/fix a lot of it–because let’s face it people, while it has some great moments, it’s my first novel and it ain’t perfect–I’d be so thrilled, so honored, so gloriously, deliriously happy.

cakeLET THEM EAT CAKE Loose Id knows–like I know–that sometimes you just don’t know until you’re walking down the aisle this is all a big, big mistake.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to make up for the bad karma I sent Kimmy’s way by asking readers to cut her some slack.  Just watch an episode of GIRLS on HBO and you’ll see that the dating world out there is a total cringe fest.  Who wouldn’t want shelter from the storm?

Meanwhile, imagine you’ve spent 45,000 dollars on a car, or a college education–or a kidney transplant–and you can’t get a refund.  Do you really just give the car away? Throw the kidney in the trash? I’m not at all surprised that many women suck it up, even if deep inside it all feels wrong.  Let them eat cake for christ’s sake, it cost $3,000.00.

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