One thing in the wedding business you really grow to love are human voices. Few and far between, they really are like good, deep swigs of Cab or Barbaresco: you learn to anticipate, then savor them. One of my favorites belongs to Khris Cochran, of DIY Bride (the site, and soon, the book).
As we all know, weddings come with a heavy burden of perfection, and perfection comes at a price (as does “elegance”). Somehow, this price has come to seem innocuous, something to be got through in a year or two that might consist of more trips to Albertson’s and fewer to Trader Joe’s. But as Khris points out, the numbers still add up to a diamond-hard truth: the cost of an average wedding’s not far from two-thirds of the average year’s salary. Ouch.
That’s fine and good, she says, as long as life goose-steps to the tune of the plans you’ve made. Khris had every reason to think hers would. She’d nailed a high-flying job in an industry that was pegged to make the industrial revolution a quaint historical byway. Money was flowing in so fast around the valley, no one quite knew how to spend enough on Ahi tuna, Cirque du Soleil performers or martini luges to make a dent in it. Plus, Khris knew how to manage her cash, not just make it. That virtually made her a poster girl for the responsible 30K wedding.
Yet, things went wrong.
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Just about one generation ago, you knew from age five on what kind of wedding you’d have. If you wore cashmere sweater sets and a dainty pearl choker and it wasn’t just the milkman who called you “Miss,” you’d have a society shindig.
Your father paid for it; your mother directed the caterers and nodded sagely when you tried on the right gown, and jointly, your parents battled over which social contacts deserved an invitation. When all was said and done, Dad might gripe about the ailing state of his pocketbook, but you and Mr. Big started your swank new life financially unencumbered.
If none of these applied, you’d have a little affair at the VFW or your own backyard. A newphew was tasked with the record player, and blood relatives would show up with supersized casserole dishes on each arm. Sweet, simple, cheap. And again … unlikely to throw any curveballs that might darken those first few years of married bliss.
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These days, most people are in limbo. They might get help, but parents rarely foot the bill. Couples themselves are at their most financially vulnerable, being young in their careers. And yet, virtually everyone feels that the $30,000 wedding is within reach, and they’re entitled to it. They feel this strongly. And in many cases, they get it.
But matter how many do, the fact is, paying for this kind of wedding is a HUGE high-wire act — unless your family is, to put it bluntly, loaded.
Sure, a lot of people who aren’t make it across that wire. Some, for reasons that once seemed unforeseeable, don’t. Virtually everyone who goes there is taking a financial risk that, in the days before wild credit and wilder debt loads, seemed like a free ticket to a sanitarium.
There’s no question that the wedding of your dreams can be worth every penny you spent. But would that still be true if you spent six years paying it off on cards with rates creeping ever-higher into the double digits because one of you lost your job?
What happens if you have a $30,000 wedding, and after you send off the band and pack up the dress, life throws you a curve ball?
