Vendors That Make Me Scream

For Christ's sake LISTEN to your planner

Ok so maybe I am a little wound up today but I want to hit the topic of vendors. Before I start ranting, I want to say that in my present day, almost every single vendor I work with is EPIC. They make my job on the event day feel like a literal symphony. Each vendor seemingly like an instrument, hitting their cues, their timing is perfect. The energy builds exactly as it should and I usually end the event thinking this is exactly why I do this! Thank GOD for these vendors. (You know who you are.)

Then there are the vendors who have made me reconsider a new career. Perhaps in Water Aerobics, Forestry, Lighthouse keeping, heck anything where email and micromanaging is not involved.

This post is about those vendors, the ones who have no business being in this business. Mainly these vendors come to me through the client and mostly this happened in a past life of my event planning. I have put processes in place that keep these types of things from happening BUT sometimes a client will say “oh this is a friend of my old roommate” or “I have been following this person on Instagram since the beginning” and they talk a good talk, these vendors. I mean some people are really good sales people and I think they should stay in sales……..

The Instagram Florist Who Needed… Foraging Rights?

This one was a vision, truly. The kind of work that takes the Bride’s breath away while she is scrolling and says to herself “ I must have them”.

They weren’t local but doesn’t love make people do brave things? So we rented a house for the floral team, we built a plan, we aligned on a design.

The night before the wedding, we got an email. Not an email to confirm or review.

This Florist let us know they would not be at the event the next day, but not to worry The team has got it and it’s going to be AH-mazing.

The Bride FREAKED. I spent an hour calming her. It would be ok. The team has the plan, things will be beautiful.

I called the Florist, told them this was not the plan, they promised “you have the A-Team, they were the ones that built the ideas. everything would be fine”. And also “one quick question while I have you, is there anywhere on the property the team could forage for bougainvillea?”

FORAGE.

Like we were hosting a small woodland gathering and not a meticulously planned event with a very defined floral order. WTF!?!?!?!?!

The next day, the team arrived. Not very friendly. Actually downright defensive and standoff-ish. I love that. (in case you didn’t catch it, that last statement was extremely facetious)

They had hours to set up. I mean for crying out loud, they insisted we rent a house for them to create the garland that would drape from above the dining tables. Granted it was a windy afternoon but any professional floral service provider would be prepared for that. Can I just say here, in my 22 years of owning my own business I have never seen chicken wire barrels of bougainvillea rolling around a ceremony site like I did that day. It was a yard sale and my team had to go into crisis mode to fix the alter 20 minutes before the wedding was to start.

That is because the floral team was now at the reception site, JUST STARTING to hang the very intricate ceiling garland. Only one small strand made it’s way above the guests heads that evening.

The design we had all agreed upon became more of a loose interpretation, a suggestion, a floral “vibe”.

The couple and I spent hours after the wedding going back and forth with this so-called florist. Eventually they did get refunded about half of what they paid. But it was a nightmare that made me add a clause into my contract. Most of the clauses in there are because of these experiences.

The “Most Professional DJ You’ll Ever Work With”

They told me this themself. Unprompted. A bold opening statement.

And you know what? I love confidence. I encourage it, I absolutely want you to believe in yourself. I just also want you to read and answer an email in less than seven business days.

Every correspondence felt like sending a message in a bottle. I thought I was pretty clear when I asked for a response to all the information I sent. I mean, I had only been planning this event for months and there was a lot of information in it. I get it, it’s a lot. But silence. Days would pass. A week. Maybe more. Just enough time for me to wonder if I had imagined the client hiring them at all.

At that point, I’m not looking for professionalism. I’m looking for signs of life.

The Caterer Who Brought the Heat (and Not the Ice)

This one is getting it’s own post one day.

But for now because this post is getting longer than I wanted already I’ll be brief.

Picture this:

Over 100 degrees

Outdoor bars with little shade

Guests glistening like they have been lightly misted for dramatic effect.

And the so-called caterer, who was also responsible for bringing the ice arrived TWO HOURS late.

TWO HOURS.

Things work differently when you are watching was once cold beer and wine that were delivered by the booze store slowly warm in triple digit heat. Time moves differently too. It stretches , it mocks you. It forces you to do things you never thought you do, like put kegs in wheel barrels and chase afternoon shade.

We survived but barely.

More on this one another time, when it isn’t triple digits and my cortisol isn’t rising just thinking about that god awful night.

The “Budget-Friendly Photographer

There is a statement I have come to dread.

“We found someone more affordable.”

Sometimes it actually works out, sometimes these more affordable vendors turn out to be a hidden gem and then I covet them and honestly tell them to raise their prices because I believe everyone should be paid their worth.

And sometimes the photographer is so deeply committed to their own altered state (I mean they are artists right?) that key moments on a wedding day cease to exist.

In this case the ceremony.

Gone, not delivered. Possibly not captured in any usable form.

A wedding album without the actual wedding part is defiantly a bold editorial choice

The Videographer Who Vanished (But Not Really)

They delivered a teaser. A little taste. A promise of what was to come.

They sent raw footage.

And then, nothing.

No final video. No edits. No closure.

The couple followed up. Repeatedly. Emails. Texts. Polite at first, then firmer, then threaded with the quiet language of legal action. I also followed up.

Silence.

Complete.

Which would almost be impressive if not for one small detail:

I see this person. Regularly. At the beach.

Living. Thriving. Very much in “recently went out of business” but still somehow enjoying a beautiful beach day.

And every time I think that today is going to be the day I say something, I realize they have their children with them. And I am a professional and a mom so I look away and wait for another day.

To Wrap It All Up

Here is the uncomfortable truth inside of all of this.

None of these situations were unpredictable. Most of them, I had a feeling, most of them I warned the clients. I hinted at “you get what you pay for.”

In delayed responses. In pricing that felt too good to be true. In online galleries that brought tons of likes and followers but had no local footprint. In confidence that wasn’t backed by process.

These examples are why I push. Why I recommend, why I gently and not-so-gently steer.

Not because I am controlling.

Because I have seen this movie play out before and I know how it ends.