The 1986 Wedding: Rocking the Pouffy Bang, Back Before Vera Wang

According to this morning’s paper, November 22 marks the anniversary of several important events:

Edward Teach, aka “Blackbeard,” was killed off of the Virginia coast

President John F. Kennedy was assassinated

Ravel’s Bolero was performed for the first time in Paris

Former French president Charles de Gaulle  was born

Dave and Margo got  married in 1986. (OK, this one wasn’t in the newspaper)

“Lacy,” “pouffy,” and “modest” were words that  epitomized the mid- 1980s wedding. I would say “tasteful” too, but no matter what the era, all brides think they are being tasteful. Only time tells taste.

Back in the day we were inspired by the weddings of these people:

The one detail that set us apart from our own mothers whose gowns we often wore, were stylin’ aqua-netted bangs. I think we thought they balanced out our pouffy dresses.

We were all doing our best to channel our wedding cakes thanks to this bride.

Most of our choices can be traced directly back to this 1981 event. Every girl in America got up at 5 am  to watch the live broadcast of Lady Diana Spencer’s wedding to Prince Charles.

Most of us didn’t have access to glass coaches and all the queen’s horses and all the queen’s men. As a generation many of us embraced the sapphire as  the new engagement ring of choice and Purcell’s Trumpet Voluntary as our wedding march. With few exceptions we all adopted them lovely perky bangs.

The twist to our happily-ever-afters came a decade or so later. For some it meant extramarital affairs and divorce. For others, with our lack of perspective, it meant something that felt almost as serious.

Teenage girls would come to our house to babysit for my two young daughters. Upon our return they would often ask, “Who is that in that wedding portrait over there?”

“That would be me,” I would say, doing my best to hide my sheer horror and gauge the extent of their dropped jaw reactions.

Over the years I have discussed this phenomenon with several of my contemporaries. There were others who had experienced the exact same thing: A mere 10 years after our weddings, we were kind of unrecognizable.

(Or maybe they were just trying to make me feel better.  For the sake of this post, let’s assume it is true.)

Now let’s go a decade or so further into the future. Today when I look at my wedding portrait and barely recognize myself, rocking an updo with stiff bangs, I am thankful. I remind myself that the sleek and shiny Vera Wang had not yet come along to lead an overdue anti-pouf wedding movement.  I’m good with unrecognizable.

Just so you know I will not be sharing any wedding pictures at this point. Thankfully that portrait I’m talking about is too big to scan.  Just use your imagination.

*Added a couple of hours later after reading Tammy’s comments. I’m a soft touch for pouting.

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