Not the hot-water kind, either. (As long as there’s hot water I’m happy.) (Except for the contractions.)
Always have, really.
I have vivid memories of dressing up on Saturday morning (“you can’t wear jeans!”) and heading to Grandma’s house with my mom and all my sisters. The women in the family would ooh and aah over dishes and baby stuff while we played awkward games and gave awkward presents and, in my case at least, pretended that we wanted to be there. Sometimes the food was the only redeeming part.
In college I made sure that my roommates knew how vehemently opposed I was to bridal showers – they thought I was crazy – and furthermore, that if they ever threw one for me, they would never be forgiven. When the time came, they did it anyway.
And when the time came, I forgave them.
It’s not that I dislike the sentiment of showers. Gift-giving is wonderful and gracious and especially at those stages of life, the woman of honor (usually) really needs the gifts. I’ve certainly never been opposed to people giving me stuff either … which is maybe why I didn’t make a fuss about my own bridal showers. And to be fair, I have been to showers with fun games, easy relationships all around, and fabulous food.
Still, I haven't been able to pinpoint why they’ve always made me uncomfortable. Until today.
According to Wikipedia (I know), Sociologist Beth Montemurro wrote that “the bridal shower ‘socializes women into the hyper-feminized traditional wife role,’ with its emphasis on the future role of the bride-to-be as family cook, homemaker, and sexual partner.”
It’s just another scrapbooking convention, Scentsy party, cooking class, chunky jewelry boutique … just another one of those things that I don’t get.
Can't we all just get together and have lunch? Visit like old friends and family, which we ARE?
You can even bring your husband.