I have fallen short on my promise to provide updates (as sort-of-kind-of promised here) concerning wedding planning this year, but life has been pretty hectic. Doing most of it myself, however, has taught me a thing or two about the wedding industry, confirming most of my suspicions about the racket they’ve got going. One thing I hadn’t thought about recently, though, were all the ridiculous things Disney sneakily slipped into their wedding scenes in their classic cartoons. Well I’m onto you now, Disney, and I’m here to expose the truth. Here are three of their most egregious lies:
1 . You Will Look Perfect
You will not gain or lose weight (which means your dress will fit perfectly). Nor will you bloat up, get pimples like an anxious fifteen-year old who can’t remember geometric proofs, or have major hip surgery three months prior to walking down the aisle, causing you to be in frantic rehab mode two months prior to your wedding date in the hopes that you will actually be able to walk down said aisle. Basically, life/stuff/evil sea witches casting spells are going to happen, but it is not going to stop you from looking like an angel on your big day, because you are The Bride, and The Bride must always look perfect.
Remember this scene?
I would like to point out several things.
1. Ariel is sixteen and there is nary a zit to be found on her salty little mermaid face.
2. All this is happening on the ocean (which equals hair destroying wind and water), and her big ol’ fluffy bangs are firmly in place. As both a Former Debutante and an Army Bun Hair Nazi, I am confident that this is not going to happen. Ever.
3. Unless those things are filled with tulle, those sleeves would have definitely fallen due to the aforementioned humidity.
4. Where did that dress come from? Did Grimsby just put an army of seamstresses to work as soon as she showed up and Eric started all that crazy talk? “She’s the one, Grim!” And he’s like, “Well, I don’t love the idea of my liege lord marrying a mysterious, mute ginger sea urchin, but I guess it’s better than an end to the royal line, so might as well have someone take her measurements and get going on a gown in case we need it.”
I suppose we can chalk most of this first one up to royal money (both on land and sea since they’re both royalty) and magic, but either way there are some fishy (ha ha) things going on here. Future brides, don’t be deceived. Your wedding is not happening on a ship surrounded by singing merpeople, and unless your dad is king of the ocean, you are probably not getting a rainbow drawn in the sky on demand at the end of your I-do’s. Just prepare yourself.
I am being a little more realistic and trying to expose these Disney lies to you in advance. I just had hip surgery. I am 59 days away from my wedding. You know what the Internet says I’m supposed to be doing at this point in my beauty regimen? Exfoliating my face and my body. Adding another thirty minutes to my gym routine so I’ll be super toned for the big day. Tanning. Whitening my teeth. Taking lots of vitamins. Yoga.
That’s all good information. I’ll get right on that. Let me just pop a couple Percocet, strip off my compression stockings that I have to wear to prevent blood clots, and saddle up on the ol’ crutches so I can get started. Get serious people. I can’t even walk right now. I’m like the Duchess of Crutches of over here. “Gym routine.” My gym routine is isolating my mushy, nonexistent quadriceps on my left leg. Sometimes I pat it and cheer it on to get it motivated. Sometimes I yell at it: “DO YOU WANT TO WALK DOWN THAT AISLE OR WHAT?” I don’t think it’s listening.
2. Logistics Are NBD and Everybody Can Be Our Guest
I’m going to start this one with the assumption that Belle and the Beast are getting married at the end of Beauty and the Beast. Maybe that’s a big, fat, Republican assumption, and what they’re really doing is just having a Yay We’re Not Household Objects Anymore party, but there are enough signs in the final scene of the movie that point to a wedding reception, so I’m just going to go with it.
There are counter-arguments that could be made for why the final scene of Beauty and the Beast is not a wedding reception, but there are also a lot of plot holes in the movie, so I’m not currently accepting offers of dissension. Additionally, yes, I do see that Belle’s dress is gold, not white, as per our tradition. But hey, they’re French. What are you gonna do? Moving on.
I want to know who arranged all this.
I know there’s a castle full of staff standing around the happy, dancing, swirling, waltzing couple, but the timeline of the movie leads you to believe that this all happens within a relatively short period of time. My best guess would be that Mrs. Potts would be the one cracking the whip on getting a wedding together quickly, but at the same time, she’s been sleeping in a cupboard with her kid and a bunch of other flatware for years. The woman probably could go for a few nights’ sleep in a bed of her own, a massage, and a cup of tea she didn’t have to pour out of her own nose. Instead she’s probably chasing down Lumiere and Cogsworth, trying to get them to get some real work done for a wedding and reception she had dumped on her, but they’re probably too busy hiding their rising flames and pendulums while Miss Feather Duster sashays on by. Like, congratulations, the spell is broken, Widow Cogsworth, now plan somebody else’s gigantic wedding for tomorrow!
Someone had to make sure all these crazies showed up. Someone had to get those floors waxed. Someone had to ensure the windows were washed. You think that harpist just appeared? No. There was a contract, deposit, and insurance. Stop lying to us, Disney! (Also you will note that Belle’s Papa is present but he’s sporting They Threw Me in the Insane Asylum Chic, which I hear is very in this season. That guy has other issues, so we’ll give him credit for making it to the big day and not getting carried off by either some kind of bug-like carriage device or a lynch mob in the night.)
Real weddings are not like this! You have to pick all kinds of things you don’t care about, like stationary and tablecloths and times for people to show up places. I am basically the worst bride ever, because I’m like, look. We have a place to get married in and a person to marry us and I have this white dress to wear and it’s great and I’m great and Manfriend’s great, and afterward there will be food, so what are all these other questions? But nooooo. Everyone’s all, details, details, details.
I’m really just bitter because I bet Belle had a plated dinner, a candy bar, a photo booth, and fireworks at the end of the night and never had some snotty vendor tell her that date was unavailable, signed any contracts, or signed a single check.
3. It’s Okay to Throw Rice
The place where Manfriend and I are getting married has a strict no-fire policy. (I think if you violate it they throw you into a fire, actually. Or just keep your damage deposit, whichever is more convenient to them.) So no candles on the tables, no sparkler send-off, etc. I didn’t really care about it until I realized that we couldn’t launch lanterns into the air a la Tangled. I already had to let go of my fireworks dream due to budget constraints (elephant rides, puppies as party favors, and hiring Michael Buble’ to sing also had to get scratched from the list) but it turns out the lantern thing is pretty affordable.
Still, the lanterns were nixed since (clearly) they require fire to make them float magically up into the sky. One of the people at the venue suggested bubbles, bird seed, rice, or flower petals instead.
Which of course I found hilarious. No fire, but you can either feed the birds or destroy them. (Tuppence a bag.) I know throwing rice used to be a thing, but now nobody does it anymore because birds will eat it off the ground the next day and then they will explode. So basically these people either want you to use bird food, or innocuous-looking bird detonation devices.
I had briefly considered using rice since it’s cheap and it looks good before I remembered it would make me a bird murderer, imagining the end scene from Cinderella. It’s sort of like my position on corgis: if they’re good enough for the Queen of England, they’re good enough for me. (Also, Manfriend, she has like seven. I just want one. Please. Okay, plug for corgis over.) But that’s what I figured about the rice: if it was good enough for Cinderella’s hoity-toity magical wedding, it was good enough for my once-very-elaborate-but-now-downgraded-somewhat-due-to-my-not-being-an-heiress-to-an-oil-fortune budgetary constraints.
Here’s where the Disney lie comes into play. Observe Cindy and Charming leaving their wedding in style while the only parent they apparently have between the two of them looks on with his twitchy monocled adviser:
I have a theory about this, however. The rice and the death and the destruction and all that jazz. The mice were behind it.
Look how happy they are! They know they’ve already won. Like, here you go, you bird brains! Have fun holding up that veil; there ain’t enough room for both of us in the castle.
Just like the mice were behind Cinderella getting her Happily Ever After, they wanted to make sure those pesky birds didn’t usurp their place as her helpers when she moved into the castle with Charming. We’ve seen this time and time again throughout history. Things turn ugly when people (and mice) have a chance to gain some power. The seedy, Orwellian underbelly of Disney politics.
All I can say is it’s a good thing Manfriend is a much better prince than still-in-the-closet Eric, anger issues Beast, and zero personality Charming, since it sort of looks like the Disney weddings are probably more satisfying than the resulting Disney marriages. Duchess of Crutches out.