My wedding was supposed to be simple, but my fiance’s daughter stepped in, wanted to be my “wedding coordinator.” It was pretty disastrous, and cost about 3 times what I had budgeted and we were pretty damn poor at the time with what we were bringing home at the shop.
She made me choose colors. I chose maroon and gold.
She sewed. I found a cute, flowing white skirt at Goodwill, bought some pretty gold and maroon ribbon fabric to sew around the bottom of the skirt. It was pretty intricate and probably 4” wide.
When she got it back to me she had not used the ribbon I had provided because she was a little short. Instead of asking me to get more, she dug out some super cheap ass ribbon that she had laying around that was maybe ¾” wide and sewed it on. It had the result of causing the skirt to bunch up in the tackiest way. When she handed it to me she said, “I didn’t have enough of that other so I found this and put it on.” Then, laughing she said, “What the hell, it’s maroon, right?!!” Laugh laugh.
I was….speechless. That night I told Rick I was not wearing that skirt. He got really defensive of his daughter, said I’d really hurt her feelings! So, for the first time in my life, and probably the last, I flat turned on the water works to manipulate him. I was sobbing and wailing until he finally realized it was MY fucking wedding, and MY feelings were paramount! God damn it! When he relented I turned them off as quickly as I turned them on. This is what I wore. $3.00 at a garage sale.
Also, she baked. She offered to bake a cake for us. A couple of days after the wedding she wanted to know when I was going to pay her for the cake. It was $50. I was absolutely floored again. I thought it was a gift. Hell, I would have gotten a sheet cake from Dillions for ten bucks if I’d known she was going to charge me!
And she put all these foo foo crap things together, like fake flowers in tulle and shit that I neither wanted or needed and I had to pay for it all.