Where Did My Feminist Wedding Go?

What Happened To My Feminist Wedding?

One of the first things I told my fiancé after we got engaged was, “I am not wearing a fucking white dress.”

Fast-forward to now, mere days before the wedding, and I am wearing a fucking white dress. That isn’t all. I spent hundreds of dollars on makeup and makeovers. I purchased multiple pairs of sparkly high-heeled shoes that left me limping after trying them on. I crash-dieted. I bought a pair of Spanx, a modern girdle (a contradiction in terms if there ever was one). One evening I earnestly told my fiancé, “Maybe I should wear fake eyelashes for the wedding.” Without missing a beat, he replied, “Baby … remember feminism?”

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