A tradition apparently started by the Flemish but now seemingly practiced in it's current form in the US and Canada. Corinne had talked me through what was actually involved and I'll do my best to summise here.
The lady folk who are invited to the wedding day itself get together and throw a pseudo surprise party for the Bride. The Groom on the other hand is privy to the information and generally also the collector of the Bride post celebration. As with all good celebrations of the nuptial format a giving of gifts to prepare the Bride for her role as a wife is performed. These gifts are usually chosen from a list generated by the Bride although deviations of a thoughtful nature are encouraged.
I was to canter into the venue, in this case the delightful Tosca's in Hingham, around noon. I was lured there by the promise of food and would lose respect for myself if I passed on Tosca cuisine. It is one of my favourite restaurants, not just because my soon-to-be cousin Jessica and her gentlefellow star chef boyfriend run it, but because it really is that good. Corinne and I have calendars full of happy memories from there. Now, what I was expecting, or had visioned after listening to Corinne's renditions of prior wedding showers, was that a select group of friends get together and give gifts to Corinne, generally chat about womanhood, how to be a good wife, exchange meatloaf recipes discuss soft versus crisp cookies and generally have a catch up and gas about the forthcoming event.
I walked into the event, the restaurant was closed so it was obvious where I was to go, and got a wave from an entrance to the enclosed far end of the building. Just as I stepped through the arch into the room I was struck by how crowded the room was....then I realised they were all cheering me.....and I still had my clothes on. I was not prepared for it at all. There were probably 40,000 people there and I think I was supposed to know all their names. Now, for anyone that knows me, you'll know how terrible I am with remembering names. I'm fabulous with faces, but discerning between a Brian and an Angela, I'm a defeated hopeless episode of Sex in the City. I was also hungry and judging by the state of play, I was the only one. Everyone else had finished and like an agoraphobic's nightmare the food was on a table in the centre of the room. Everyone also looked fabulous. I on the other hand I'd taken the lengths to don a black polo shirt number belonging to a guy called CK, a pair of jeans and a fancy pair of shoes. I was also wearing underwear but you wouldn't have known it by looking at me.
The whole atmosphere was great too. Corinne was the centre of attention with her maid of Honour, Rachael, to her right and Anna, her cousin, to her left. Presents were being opened, oooohhhhss and aaaahhhhaaaa heard and then a chorus of thanks and nodding of heads. I scurried to the back and hung out with a few of the Boston Latin School honey's, a few aunties and then a few more aunties.
After all said and done I was wholly impressed and somewhat humbled for a number of reasons. Everyone was there and had made such a monumental effort as a result of Corinne saying yes to my marriage proposal. What a great decision, both in me asking and her saying affirmative and then saluting. We've a kitchen a professional chef would envy over. I predict my future will involve a lot of cake and dinner parties. The other reason is that everyone is so happy for us, everyone is excited and everyone sees us as a strong and highly compatible couple. I'd grown up away from a large family and although I do not miss it, there are incredible emotions of belonging when so many others accept you because of someone else's decision.
Of course, the whole event also made me ask myself why a guy does not something similar from his guy friends. Seems like guy friends have it easy when their buddies get married. They basically get invited to a stag party, drink a lot, probably head out to a strip joint and oggle some ladies before going home and at some point waking to nurse a hangover. Pretty straight forward formulas if you ask me. But what if a guy had a grooming shower - what would that be? Would it be a simple affair of unwrapping power tools, boxes of nails, a hammer, car polish, a kiddy leash and an xbox, or would you be unwrapping that supersized poster of Pammy along with a lifetime subscription to a favourite brew....who knows. I think it would be fun though......in fact, i think it would be a lot of fun.
well, answers on a postcard .....
