September 2014 will mark for me the most important month of my life. If I make it without falling apart from stress and panicking, September will be forever marked as the month when I got married to my best friend. As you all know, this month is famously called “Egyptian mating season”, when practically all Egyptian brides get married and it’s hard to find a slot in any hotel and there’s the hassle of wedding planners, photographers and the dress! So every month or so, I get a major panic attack and, of course, who to tolerate it but my very own (very understanding – just don’t know til when) fiancé? Here are the major ones:
Let’s spend a fortune on four hours
Egyptians tend to be extravagant at their weddings. God forbid the wedding is to be measured by how happy the people were at the event, but rather by how much money the couple spent to throw it. Remember those Whose Wedding Is This? episodes you saw on Style TV that promoted the message that a wedding should be all about you two and no matter where it is, it should always be enough and happy? Yeah, Egyptians tend to crush that thought! Your wedding should be as expensive as your cousin’s wedding, as extravagant as the last wedding you attended and, my God, don’t get me started on how mothers like to suggest including EVERY SINGLE decorative item they’ve ever seen in every wedding they’ve ever attended – never mind the fact that ivory doesn’t really go well with hot pink, Mom!
Yes, sweetheart, I love you, but – waking up next to you every single day…?
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my future hubby, but I blame our society for this coming one. See, I’m a Sagittarius – we tend to be the biggest fans of commitment phobia – and my parents and grandparents didn’t have the idea of having boyfriends. The worst thing that could happen would just lead to a fast way out: breaking up – no harm done here – along with the privilege of actually missing your boyfriend (that is, if you aren’t moved in together already). Again, I count the days til I utter the words “I do” and spend every waking hour with my husband, but the idea of having him there. Every. Single. Day? Please tell me this is a freaking out moment for everyone. No? Kay. Cool.
Honeymoon surprise – not!
So you’re too carried away with preparing and organizing every single detail of your wedding and life and the fiance suggests handling the honeymoon process and, even better, make this a surprise for you. “Honey, you will love it,” he says thoughtfully, not knowing the million things running through my head: “What if we went somewhere like Paris? I hate Paris. Is it going to be all mushy mushy time and no partying? What if he chooses all the wrong places?” And, as OCD as I am, I tend to make back-up plans without him knowing, just in case everything falls apart. Thank you to my friends at Thomas Cook – you’ll save my honeymoon! “Of course, habibi! I’ll go wherever you take me!” *Wink*
The ghost of plus sizes
I’m not the petite kind of girl – I won’t call myself fat, but I’m always welcomed in the plus size department (plus size as in 10 UK). Before you judge me and say that I’m being mean about sizes, let me just tell you that I’m being called “plus size” by every single wedding boutique in Cairo. I sometimes even got turned down before trying anything on: “Sorry, darling, we don’t have more than a size eight”. Not cool. As if I need another stress factor. So I obviously go on a diet and, my God, let me tell you, the lack of carbs gives me 24/7 PMS. I see you all as chicken drumsticks now.
I’d like to look more like myself rather than the Bride of Frankenstein at my own wedding. Thank you!
What is up with you makeup people? First of all, I never requested for my makeup provas to be titled “glittery”. And by makeup, I mean: “Let’s dye the top of her eyelids with shades of the rainbow and invest in a red lipstick to bring out those lips…” News flash! I don’t use makeup! I rarely use cosmetic products outside of eyeliner and blush and if I’m going to a wedding, I’ll throw in some fake lashes and a light shade of rose lipstick – so, seriously, that won’t change at my own wedding. How many times have I explained this to a makeup person in Egypt and not heard the sentence, “It’s your wedding you should shine! You’re not going to a funeral” – as opposed to what? A Halloween party? No, thank you!
No, Mom, Dad, Mother in Law, Father in Law, it’s not cute when you surprise visit us the next day in the hotel early in the morning.
We had a very long night. We’re catching a flight this evening. We’re both panicking and trying not to wake up early just to have some time for the fact to sink in that WE JUST GOT MARRIED. I’ll drop you a call once I’m back from my honeymoon.
Please don’t be those parents from Gawaz b Qarar Gomhory.
On a scale of 1 to whale, how fat do I look in this?
This is by far the scariest bit of the wedding. I’m a veiled girl who has been covering up for the past God knows how long. I’ve never gone out as an adult with hot shorts or a sleeveless top, so for me to just stand there wearing three inches of fabric is REALLY horrifying. I mean, I’m used to me looking like whatever I look like every day, but honey you’re not. What if you just don’t like what you see? Yes, baby, I know you tell me I’m beautiful and you love me the way I am, but still – this is horrifying. How am I supposed to choose something that makes me look slim? There simply isn’t enough cloth! So on a scale of 1 to whale, how fat do I look in this?
Wish me good luck!
WE SAID THIS: Good luck!