Wedding plans
How to plan a queer wedding in 12 easy steps
(the first 7 steps are pretty straight…but it gets good at 8, promise)
- Find someone to marry: this may seem like an obvious one but it can take a VERY VERY long time. You will likely have to go through many regrettable experiences (no ragrets) before this first step even crosses the threshold into reality. Check out Hinge.
- Get engaged, maybe more than once.
My family jokes that we had a thousand engagements. As Lesbians often do, we had:
secret kind-of-sort-of pillow talk engagement after a night of drinking at a Jazz club
wayy impulsive engagement trespassing on a horse/goat/chicken/dog??? sanctuary next to the mountain we were supposed to hike, but, April 2020 Covid
hidden photo book open-to-the-question engagement in New Paltz, June of 2020.
Now, at least, we can joke about it.
3. Stay engaged, at least until the wedding:
Clean the litter box. Take your meds. See your therapist. Get pet insurance. CBD. Don’t read your horoscope.
4. Decide to push the wedding off a year (or more):
It sometimes takes over 10 months for people to get used to the idea of you getting married. Also, there may be a Global Pandemic. Also, getting engaged after 3 months, then 5 months, then 10 months may worry some enough to withhold funds.
5. Finally book a venue:
Remember, ugly green carpeting should not be a deal breaker, especially if you’re planning to get married in June, and it’s less than 4k for 5 hours. Lock it in before the bar mitzvahs and business functions snag it. Be aggressive, be be aggressive.
6. Beg for money:
Make an excel spreadsheet of prices and bring it to someone who can afford something off of it. If you can get your hands on a pro bono wedding planner, ideally an acquaintance who will feel bad saying no, do so before they realize their time is worth more than the ten dollars you can afford.
7. Save like mad:
The photographer? Yeah, she’s gonna cost more than 3k. Unless you want a high schooler whose experience includes AP photography and Instagram from her iPhone.
Everything else, see #6.
8. Figure out what to call your paramour in straight spaces:
Safe: Partner. Friend. Sista. Comrade. Paramour.
Questionable: My Fiance
Sample #1 (exchange with a colleague):
Bob: So I heard you’re getting married!
Lesbian, straight-passing me: Yeah! It’s exciting.
Bob: who’s the lucky guy?
Lesbian, now a little more gay seeming: Oh, you mean my paramour? The name is Jordy.
Bob: Oh (awkward pause) good.
Sample #2 (w/ grocery store clerk)
(watching our endless fruits, veggies, and tofu travel down the belt)
Shani: wow, you eat healthy!
Lesbian, straight-passing me: thanks, I learned it from my mom.
Shani: (looking at Jordy) oh, is she your mom?
Lesbian, now seeming more like a Lesbian: Oh no. Actually, she is my comrade.
9. Get the vaccine.
Wait two weeks. Then host a really super extra pre party to a Queer Liberation march. Maybe even step foot in the one Lesbian bar you can find before deciding it’s too terrifying to be around people and fleeing.
Remember that feeling when you decide to invite only your closest friends and family. Use it to justify any drama.
10. Become queerer:
You look like brunette Barbie and people want to stick a white dress on you. Go learn about it.
11. Invite just enough gay people:
… to feel gay, but not so many that the more conservative people will be scared and hide under beautifully tableclothed tables. Try to discourage against cherry red hair and nose rings. I’m really talking to myself, here.
12. Be yourself!
