A Prairie Chic Love Story

There was a sweet little article about our wedding in the most recent issue of Winnipeg Weddings.  You can find the spread with a whole bunch of pictures here:

weddingsinwinnipeg.ca/winnipeg

It's mostly the simple story of how we chose our clothes for the wedding and who made the centre pieces, and other really important things. But I was very pleased to see that they highlighted my quote, which I had written as advice to future brides:

“Plan your wedding together as a bride and groom. It’s so much fun to see a shared vision come to life.”

Looking back, I wish I had said, "Plan your wedding together as a couple", not "a bride and groom", because, obviously not everyone getting married is male and female. But aside from that, I think that despite the fact that I am still searching, discovering and on some level, still making peace with weddings and marriage in general, I can say honestly that this is the best lesson I have learned, and the most important tenet of the feminist wedding as far as I am concerned.

When a wedding (and by virtue, a marriage) is planned by the couple getting married, its a major step toward a true feminist wedding. It takes the pressure off of the bride, off of the idea that the day is somehow more about her. When a couple enters into a wedding and a marriage together, having planned and worked toward a common vision, it makes the day incredibly special, and true representation of two people's commitment to each other.

Somehow, in this day and age, this is still a novel idea to a lot of people. So I am glad I got to say it, especially in a mainstream wedding mag like Winnipeg Weddings.

A Sobler by any other name...just isn't a Sobler

Yo, I totally got married.

I can hardly believe it myself, but the husband and I had the weekend of our lives and I have a whole lot to write about regarding the successes and failures of my feminist wedding. Ironically, I expect to write more now on this subject than I did while planning the wedding, mostly because I will have more time, but also because I feel like I have gained some valuable perspective.

And if I was ever wondering whether I was going to keep this blog up after getting married (I didn't really, but still...) I opened up my Alumni Magazine to an enraging article about one woman's under-examined choice to take on her fiance's name.

I was meaning to write about the name change thing for a while, and so I am most excited to have this inspiration, negative as it may be.

You can find the article here, it's very short, and worth reading to gain context on what I am about to say.

I don't know Ms. Grose personally, and she is an editor at Slate, which is a well known site, so I would be interested at some point in engaging in an actual conversation an maybe even a debate on this subject...maybe give her an opportunity to further explore her decision to take her husband's name. Because from the content of this article one would have to assume she hasn't actually put much thought into it.

Look, people do it... a lot of friends of mine have done it, and despite my aversion to making that choice personally, I recognize that people have their reasons. Some people hate the idea of having family members with different names, like their kids and husband won't be readily tied to them. Maybe their life is now about being a wife and mother and so it only makes sense to adopt that identity. And I have spoken to some women who just like the tradition. Choosing which traditions to keep is obviously a woman's right, so far be it for me to judge that choice.

Blah, blah, blah. I can give an argument against all of the above reasons, but the bottom line is people have the right to make their own choice.

That said...

This article really rubbed me the wrong way. First of all, according to the writer, the ultimate reason she has chosen to take her husband's last name is it is "sweet decision". Wow. How thoughtful. I only take issue with this because she herself admits that she had never even considered changing her name. She claims her fiance was "upset" by this, but couldn't really articulate why. So rather than truly ask him to examine his motives and desires for her to give up a large part of her identity, they both shrug their shoulders at the question and decide to go with tradition. Ain't that sweet?

One of her friends, who had a most "un-traditional upbringing", whatever that means, made her case by...get this...surprising her.

"I think you should take his name." she said. "You didn't think I would say that, did you?" I didn't.

Well I don't know about you, but I'm convinced. This un-traditionally brought up friend goes on.

"I hate having a hyphenated name," she added. "And besides, I think it's sweet to take his name."

And that was what did it for our author. It was a "sweet" decision. Never mind that the history of the practice is steeped in property laws and ownership of women. And while the practice may no longer translate to complete submission and the forfeiting of your identity, the fact that it is no longer legally necessary makes one wonder...why is it so expected? When women full expect to maintain their identity after marriage, why is changing our last names such a given practice? And why is it that for someone that is not a given is so easily persuaded by the argument of "sweetness"? And sorry, but does that even mean?

In her essay, Ms. Grose touches upon two points that are almost passable, and would have certainly been a much more satisfying catalyst for a name change, at least for me. The most practical reason is that she has never liked her own last name. I have to concede, it's not the best one, and I am sure she took some abuse growing up. Her fiance's last name is a wonderfully WASPy Winton...a vanilla dream for someone who grew up with the last name pronounced "Gross".

The other argument that borders on intelligent in this article is one made by her friend. For many of us, our current last names are the names of our father's, not our mothers. And so maintaining that name is maintaining the patriarchy we were raised with. OK...

However, I do take issue with the idea she (through a "friend") asserts that "Technically, taking your husband's name is just as patriarchal as keeping your father's." We don't choose our given last names. Our parents choose for us. We re swept along in the patriarchy of our childhoods and upbringings whether we like it or not. But going on being who you are, and choosing to change your name to be the same as your husband's are simply not "the same" as the writer asserts. And anyway, you would hope that by the time you are getting married, you had established enough identity of your own that you are not merely going from someone's daughter to someone's wife.

I won't even get into the fact that at one point in her article someone questions "Is it really such a contentious issue anymore?" and she goes onto matter-of-factly state that it is not. As if now, as women, we've made our point with this whole hyphenating mess, and we can revert back to the way things were, because it doesn't matter what we do...everyone knows what we mean.

I really struggle with this issue because a lot of strong, smart, independent women I know have chosen to change their name, and so I know there is validity in it. But the masquerading of this article as an examination of this decision really irritated me. Not because she changed her name, but because I still don't understand why.

If I made the statement, "I am going to be Alix Sobler until I die," and my fiance looked upset by this, expressed that he expected me to take his name, and then couldn't articulate one reason why, I wouldn't be thinking so hard about whether I could change my name and still be myself. I would be taking a good look at the man I was about to marry, and asking "who the hell are you?"

The Bride's Big Day

I have always been strongly opposed to the idea that the day I get married will somehow be MY DAY. I don't believe a wedding should be all about a bride, for so many obvious reasons, and for a few not so obvious reasons as well. It's not as though the commitment of one's life is bigger for a bride than a groom. They are also dressed to kill and have a lot riding on the success and failures of the day. Not to mention the rest of the family, parents and in-laws and siblings...and very dear friends who (in our case) will be traveling from all over the world to share this experience. I have always believed that if anything, it is a shared day, one that is a collective effort and a collective experience.

But I have gotten into a bit of trouble with that way of thinking. When you start taking everyone's feelings and importance into consideration, you tend to have a whole lot of cooks in the kitchen. And you may be marrying into someone's family, but it doesn't mean you will have have the same taste, or sensibility, and sometimes those decisions get really hard to make when you start "sharing" your day with all the lunatics in your family.

Lately I have found myself feeling a little jealous of the brides who feel like this day is all about them. It would give me free reign to do what I want, plan the wedding I would love and say F you to all the demanders out there. Wow it would be so much easier!

Just a little mainstream dream from a feminist bride.

This Just In...

So my friend Lisa is getting married to my friend Andrew in February, and for Christmas A gave L the "reluctant bride" cake topper. In light of the horrifying cake toppers I have come across in my wedding research, I get a real kick out this. I won't be using it on my cake. But still. Awesome.

Dress to kill

True or false? I have purchased two wedding dresses.
True or false? Combined they cost under $1,000.
True or false? I have been feeling self-righteous and satisfied about that.
True or false? When I found out someone I knew bought a Claire Pettibone dress for her wedding, I went positively GREEN with jealousy.

TRUE.

I have been struggling over the whole wedding dress thing in one way or another since I decided to get married. Granted, I am a shopper, so the obsession over the dress was a predictable turn of events, but it goes beyond wanting to look nice at this point. I can't help but feel like I have succumbed to that ridiculous concept of what I will be wearing on the "most important day of my life."

Bullshit, the most important day of my life. An important day, and one when everyone will be looking at me sure, but I have never bought into the concept of the $5,000 wedding dress because somehow it's MY special day and I need to mark it by going into debt. I was determined to keep it to a decent price, and while I can't seem to pick one of the two I have (the loser will be on ebay, by the way) I think I have narrowed it down to two very lovely, sensibly priced, simple, white (a whole other story) dress.

So how come my eyes well up when I look at the Pettibone coutures?

Is it my socialization that forces me to dream of dressing myself like a fairy princess? Is it the romanticism of the designs that draw me in? They have the vintage appeal I have always wanted and was never able to really find. I am not sure what it is. But when I look at these dresses, and then think of the simple one I went with, I sometimes worry about how I will look wearing my principles, literally.

Not that my dress(es) is not lovely, and I am very lucky to have it (them). I know that.

Just having a realistic bridezilla moment. I am sure it will pass. Also, help me decide on shoes people. Heels or flats. (Keep in mind, the finace is 6'3").

BTW...Wedding plans have been majorly stalled as of late...due to an increasingly taxing schedule of work and rehearsal...I am currently directing feminist icon Carly Churchill's The Skriker. If you are in Winnipeg, come check it out.

The Invention of Lying...(and my Convention of Geschrei-ing)

For those of you who don't know, in Yiddish, a geschrei is a bellow or scream.

So here I am, complaining in a loud voice. As per use...

I am not intending to turn this blog into purely pop-culture commentary, but allow me to view a few things through the feminist wedding goggles. The fiance and I went to see The Invention of Lying, and interesting conversations ensued. Both of us are huge Ricky Gervais fans, and I truly believe that he is one of the great undiscovered acting talents of our time...everybody loves his comedy, but my man can actually act. Most great comedians can, but again, not widely recognized.

We really liked the movie, and it totally spoke to the moral atheist in both of us, as in "while I might not believe in god, I believe in the potential of people to be good and connected to something larger than themselves." So hooray.

BUT,

(as always I have a big but)

It must be at least noted that even in this world where short, pug-nosed, fatties manage to get the girl despite a scathing honesty that would have most of us curled in the fetal position for the duration of our lives, the fact remains that short, fat, pug-nosed ladies not only DON'T get to win, but they in fact DON'T EVEN EXIST.

Ricky Gervais and Louis C.K. and (for god's sake, really?) Jonah Freakin' Hill manage to find meaning in life, despite their slovenly appearances and dimwitted natures. And by the way, shame on you for your unwarranted sighs and dirty looks aimed at the chubby guys on the elevator (The whole movie reeked of "Well, you are thinking it, even if you're saying it. And really, isn't that just as bad?"). But look around this alternate truth telling Hollywood world; fat ugly chicks are nowhere to be found.

Imagine this movie with Rosie O'Donnel as the lead? Never happen. Even our funny ladies are the Cameron Diaz's and Jennifer Aniston's of the world. Its seems that unless you win the DNA lottery, YOU CAN'T TELL YOUR STORY. Not even as the funny girl. With the exception of Hairspray (1988), you never see the fat girl get the guy in a movie. And the only movie since Hairspray that went out on such a limb? The remake of Hairspray (2007). Think about it. Can you name another one? ONE MORE?! (OK, I can name one more: Babycakes, 1989, but I don't really count it because it was hardly a huge hit, and it was Ricki Lake again, and she is not the only fat girl in the world!)

There are exceptions, but let's face it, for the most part, average women are relegated to the cashiers and nurses and the occasional sidekick. It's not a cake walk for average men, but its not even close to what women face.

Maybe the Invention of Lying people were making an even larger statement that the odds are so stacked against the less "attractive" females, that in a world with no pleasantries or falsities, the less appealing of the gender would have died off generations ago. Somehow, I doubt it. I am sure upon a second viewing I would find some less-than-gorgeous-by-Hollywood-standards women in the background, filling up the bit parts. But my point is the same.

And consider this: for the overweight and/or far less than perfect women of the world, (and the truth is, most of us have been one at some point in our lives) we don't have to imagine an openly hostile world where people's disgust is, if not verbally expressed, than apparent on their face; we live there.

Julie and Julia- Enraging for reasons I can't quite exlplain

I think it is safe to say that I am a pretty terrible blogger. Not that my writing is bad, but I have no staying power...I am so not used this format of writing. So bear with me anyone out there actually reading. In the meantime, may I reccomend A Mouse Bouche? Here are two ladies who are good bloggers; consistent, funny, and delish...at least what they are writing about is delish. So check them out when I am being terribly delinquent, which I promise will never happen again! (Its soooo happening again...)

Meanwhile, I have some terrible excuses for why I have been absent for so long, and I will not waste your time on them. However, I have just gone to see Julie & Julia, a movie about another terrific food blogger, and it inspired me to post again. But not for the reasons you might expect.

So if you haven't see the movie, you might want to stop reading, because I am about the divulge the only conflict there is. OK, everyone with me either already seen it, or don't care? Good.

Here's the deal; Julie Powell is like, so totally bummed about life and her career and stuff, so she takes it upon herself to start a blog and cook her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. She has set herself up with quite the challenge, wanting to complete 524 recipes in 365 days. Its a cute concept and I am sure the blog and subsequent book were adorable, blah, blah, blah, but it is a movie and so they had to insert some conflict. Enter the somewhat schmucky husband. The movie begins with a much resisted move (on her part) to a dump in Queens, which he sort of reminds her they decided to do for the space, and she sort of reminds him in return that it was mostly so he could be closer to work. So, right off the bat, not loving him. Then, he encourages her to start this blog, and sort of rolls with the punches as she gets more and more absorbed in the task at hand. Then I guess, hubby-wubby is feeling a bit neglected and (BIG F-ING SURPISE) feels that he isn't getting laid enough (read: Hollywood short hand for neglected in his relationship.) So when Julie is finally feeling like she is accomplishing something with her life for the first time in years, I guess he just can't handle her new found self-absorption, and chooses the night of her biggest dissapointment to berate her for how she is all about herself, and only cares about her blog, and he's like really, really mad, dammit! (Did I mention he's not getting any at this point?) He storms out like a junior high cheerleader, and Julie embarks on a shame spiral of how terrible she is, and how she is so mean to her husband. There was even a scene when her and a friend discuss how she is really a bitch, that was so unfounded in anything we had previously seen, I was floored.

Anyway, he comes back and without so much as a "told you so" generously forgives her and sees her through the end of her project, although she is presumably, much easier to live with post-big fight.

Am I taking this Hollywood schlock a little too personally? Maybe. But what was interesting was the conversation I had with the man I went to see it with after it was over. (Not my fiance, by the way, but close...his brother.) The difference was, while I felt, yes her character was self-absorbed and maybe a bit of a drama queen, this was a timed project with an end in sight, and he could have sucked it up for a bit longer, or at least not chosen to dress her down on the night of her huge dissapointment. He felt that the husband had been a good sport up until that point, and that she had pushed it too far, and that this guy was a good guy and has the right to be angry because she was being so self-involved.

Which leads me to my final point, which is based on a gross generalization I am happy to make. Women get a bad rap for being self absorbed a lot of the time. Especially in the case of these characters, who I think are a good representation of many couples out there. She finally finds something she enjoys, that she might have a future in, she finally focuses on something outside of him and their relationship for for like five minutes, and he throws a hissy fit because she's being self-absorbed. Is it possible that some men don't realize that they themselves are self-absorbed, that they themselves think in terms of "I" before "we" because their mothers, and girlfriends and wives and society have made their life the priority? Because we buy lipstick and talk on the phone a lot we are self absorbed, but the entire culture is formed around football season, and they aren't? I don't know, I have just dealt with enough guys in my life who don't even realize that earning a living and taking out the garbage doesn't automatically make them a team player. Future husband not included in that group, of course.

Am I crazy? Over sensitive? Not articulating this fully? Totally full of shit?

Would love to hear the thoughts of the feminists and pro-feminists among you.

(PS. I have no idea if the same conflict appeared in the blog or the book, but either way, its weak in the movie.)