Wedding Dresses Actually Don't Float

A reliving of a wedding turned pool party.

I know I know, it’s been a while. We went on vacation to Japan, I came back and hit the ground running. It was a very busy couple of months and now that June is over I had a little time to reflect. I still have so many things to write about.

After 22 years planning events, there was a very specific point in my planning career where I stopped asking, "What could possibly happen?" because experience has taught me the universe treats that question as a challenge. 

This particular wedding took place at one of those venues where every hedge has a trust fund. The linens were shipped in. The flowers most likely had passports. Everything was stunning and instagramble (is that a word?).

Then Uncle Jack arrived.

Not an uncle, exactly. More of a liquid wedding guest who appeared in the form of endless shots of Jack Daniel's in the largest bottle I’d ever seen. Affixed to this massive bottle was a GoPro so the entire consumption of said bottle would never be forgotten.

The couple and their guests greeted him enthusiastically.

By 9:30 they had reached the kind of confidence usually reserved for people who've successfully completed the bar exam, except their greatest accomplishment that evening had been demolishing the late night snacks after the whiskey.

One of the tiny Bridesmaids who had been a royal p.i.a. all day, looked at the swimming pool and with logic that only bourbon can provide, announced to the Bride, "You should jump in!”

Side note. A wedding gown can be described as many things. Romantic, dramatic, photogenic come to mind. But you never think buoyant.

Without a moment’s hesitation the Bride jumped into the water with all the assertiveness of someone who had never considered that twenty pounds of satin and tulle becomes approximately the weight of a small car once submerged.

She disappeared almost immediately under all that satin and tulle.

There was a brief moment where everyone collectively decided this was probably part of the entertainment. It was not. And I started to panic immediately.

Next to me standing at the edge of the pool was the Groom. He casually asked if I was going to jump in after her. Now, I know people think that my job truly has no limits.  I was once a lifeguard. I swim at least twice a week and I am strong, but it was mid November and I had at least three more hours of breakdown with my crew and an hour drive home with no change of clothes. No, I am not going to jump in the pool if I can help it. 

The Groom who assessed the situation, remarkably calm. Slowly started removing the important things. First came the Rolex, then his shoes, last the jacket.

It was less "hero dives in to save his bride" and more "man preparing for a particularly expensive swim."

The guests watched this methodical undressing urging him to “jump in too” while his new wife remained very busy discovering that couture and water survival have never enjoyed a successful partnership.

Eventually, he made it into the pool and pulled her to safety. She was fine.

But the dress was emotionally unavailable.

When people ask what the craziest thing I've seen at a luxury wedding is. They expect stories about celebrities, runaway horses, or cakes collapsing.

Nope.

It's almost always alcohol convincing otherwise intelligent people that physics is taking the evening off.

Planners spend months preparing for weather, timelines, transportation, and vendor emergencies. What we can never prepare for is whiskey introducing itself as the event design. 

I guess the moral to this “based-on-a-true-story”  is that if your wedding ends with everyone dry, conscious, and breathing, you've already exceeded most of my expectations.