Love and Vanity

A MOB Prepares for Her Daughter's Big Day

The bride and her mother.

I spent last weekend in LA, co-hosting a bridal shower for Skye and visiting her for the weekend. Skye had a full house: Bruce and Weezie (her dad and stepmom) are visiting from Maine to help Skye and Nick work on their new house. We timed the shower so that Weezie could cohost with me and Skye’s maid of honor, Stella, who hosted the shower in her gorgeous home.

Shortly after I arrived, Weez, Bruce and I jumped right into collaborating on shower preparations, sampling the candy as we stuffed it into the piñata and working out the geometry to wrap the succulent pots in burlap and ribbon. Not everybody could so comfortably visit with their ex, let alone laugh and gab and catch up on news of each other’s families, and not everybody could spend a weekend in deep, soulful conversation with their ex’s new wife. I know how lucky I am.

Over the course of the weekend, I got to watch Bruce and Weezie work together on Skye’s house, the effortless way they support each other. I got to be there when Skye and Nick’s wedding invitations arrived in the mail and to share in their excitement. I got a sneak peak at the father of the bride’s new suit. I got to be part of a big, happy group and then to sneak off for some precious alone time with Skye, to grab lunch, do some shopping, and accompany her to a wedding dress fitting.

Skye’s dad steams her dress, with an assist from Norm.

The shower itself was a triumph. Although Stella, Weezie and I had planned it together over two months, I was unprepared for how lavish and beautiful the event would be in real life. It took walking into Stella’s light-filled, gracious little home to understand the full extent of what hadn’t made it onto our planning spreadsheet, what Stella had taken on herself. She had ordered folding banquet tables and chairs, fancy linens, and gorgeous centerpieces. The food (which was scrumptious and accommodated a host of dietary restrictions) was labeled with professionally designed signage. There was a helper setting the tables and putting out hors-d’oeuvres. She had professionally printed the shower game cards and supplied little blue golf pencils to fill them out. Stella floated through it all, giving instructions and cracking jokes as if it had been no effort at all to make her home look like something from a magazine.

Skye and Stella.

Skye’s friends are all impressive, and spending the afternoon with them was both wonderful and a little humbling. Every one of them is smart, self-assured, beautiful and powerful. They are women in the prime of their lives, and, while they are all at different stages of their journeys, they share a sense of agency. Anything you’ve heard about Millennials being lazy, self-indulgent, or spoiled is a bald faced lie.

As I have noticed about Skye’s friend group since they were little kids, they are all so comfortable in their skins. They know how to pose for photos. They dress beautifully, and their nails are immaculately manicured. They have healthy, shiny hair and dewy skin. They walk with their heads high and their shoulders back. They are witty but never glib, warm but not mawkish. They don’t apologize or qualify everything they say. If they self-deprecate, they do it with a twinkle in their eyes that reveals a foundation of confidence.

I would give a lot to be more like them. In contrast, I ruined my manicure within minutes of walking out of the salon two days before I left for LA. My hair is shaggy and wild, and I still haven’t figured out what clothes look best on me, let alone where to find them. And I’m not self-confident, not at all. The pageantry of this wedding season is foreign and intimidating to me. I want desperately to belong to it, and I also feel like an imposter.

As Skye drove us to the shower, weaving expertly through the LA traffic, Weez asked me about my first wedding, to Bruce. I described our secret elopement - a November visit to the Justice of the Peace, a kind older woman who had purple fingernails and spiky silver hair. I told her about my mom’s sorrow at not having been included and my sisters’ anxiety that I had done something rash, crazy even. I told her about being unexpectedly moved by the marriage ceremony, which I thought I was entering into for the sake of convenience.

To be clear, Bruce and I loved each other and had no reservations about committing to each other. It’s just that we didn’t subscribe to the idea of marriage - we thought it was a bourgeois institution, more a trap than a support for a couple who wanted to forge their own traditions.

Since then, my opinions on marriage have changed a lot. While married to Bruce, I learned about the power of a legal commitment, how it could ground and fortify us through good times and bad. Though our marriage didn’t last for our whole lives, it was a long and fruitful partnership that I’m grateful to have experienced.

And in 2010, I got to have a beautiful second wedding to a man I adore, replete with a white dress and a ring of flowers for my hair. Mom walked me down the aisle, Skye was my maid of honor, and both my sisters were by my side. I learned that a wedding isn’t just about two people’s pledge to one another - it’s also about a community of loved ones committing to love and support the couple as they build their lives together.

Bruce and Weezie enjoyed a beautiful wedding of their own in 2010. And now the four of us parents and stepparents get to be there for Skye’s marriage to Nick, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Skye and her stepmom.

I went into the shower weekend with a focus on the externals. I’ve been planning hair appointments and facial appointments and exercise sessions and shoe shopping, all in the pursuit of “being ready” for the wedding, by which I have meant playing my supporting role in a way that doesn’t embarrass Skye. (To be clear: Skye has never for a moment made me feel inadequate. This is my insecurity, not hers.) I learned some tips from Skye and her friends this weekend about poise and beauty and self-confidence, but my biggest teacher was Weezie, who reminded me of the heart behind the pageantry. Now I’m worrying less about what I will wear and instead looking forward to the weekend of dancing and goofiness and fun and love Skye and Nick deserve.