I have a new addiction.
This addiction is inexplicable because logically I shouldn't even like it. Logically I hate it.
But addiction defies logic does it not?
The other day, Netflix decided to present to me 5 seasons of evil. 5 seasons of a show I'd never before encountered, all now on instant play.
What is this evil? It is twenty minute segments of not just reality TV (but I'll get to that train wreck in a second), but all that is diabolical and decadent in bridal gown shopping. And. I. Cannot. Stop. Watching.
So why would a woman such as myself be sucked into such a display of hideous ridiculousness? A woman who, by all accounts, despises most everything about "traditional" weddings because of what it all symbolizes. That being property exchange and the idea that a woman is a package to be wrapped up prettily and handed over, all in the guise of romance and fairy tales.
I am diametrically opposed to tulle and corsets and hoops and rhinestones. I think a train on anything other than a track is sorely mistaken. I hate veils and tiaras, dresses named after mermaids and trumpets and sweethearts.
|seriously? she looks like a scrunchy.|
But it wouldn't be right for me. At all. It's just not how I'd do it. I'd rather pull out my own toenails and serve them in a stew.
Which is pretty awful, if you ask me.
I'm pretty attached to my toenails.
And then there's the reality TV component. As a rule, I despise reality TV. I briefly worked for a reality TV production company and for VH1 a teensy bit back in 2004. I feel like that qualifies me to preach that if you don't see through the ruse just by watching, once you see behind the scenes a bit, how can you buy that shit? It's utter and total crap.
But this show? Has sucked me in.
|eighties music video?|
No matter what I have going on, no matter what's happening on my skin or thighs, no matter what stupid things I say, at least I'm not a bridezilla or maidzilla or mother of the bride or even father of the bride terrorizing the world over thousands of dollars of fabric and beading.
|pretty sure this dress was in Showgirls|
It's utterly delicious.
Next time? I'll tell you all about all the many times I've been a bridesmaid. Or how I feel about the diamond trade. Or gay marriage. Or why, if that day comes, god won't have any place at my wedding.
AKA even more reasons why women everywhere want to burn me at the stake.