Hustle that Bustle
November 18, 2010
Ah, yes. The bustle. Anyone who’s been in the inner sanctum of a bride on her wedding day has felt the weight of the bustle. The pressure of getting it buttoned/snapped/tied just right (and in, like, 2 minutes) is crushing, isn’t it, ladies? I love watching the tradition (and necessity) this seemingly unimportant act, because it’s like a bunch of aunties hovering over a baby and trying to tell the mom what to do about that one little hiccup.
“It should go like this!” “No, I remember, the lady showed me to button this up.” “I think it’s supposed to just stay the way it is.” “Where’s the diagram? I had the diagram!” And my favorite: “I have NO idea, just grab it and hold it.”
Yes, gentleman (and those of you like me, “never a bridesmaid, always a bride”), there often is a diagram and thank God for them. If you think that twin carburetor on that classic sports car is complicated, just try and bustle a girl’s dress after you’ve had a drink or two and that Missus is wiggling and telling you to hurry up so she can get out there to her Mister! (This part, I’m joking, really.)
I already put some shots of Eva and Adam’s ceremony up on Facebook, so I thought that for her blog post, I’d feature just the photos of her and her friends/relatives and mom in the ladies’ room, dealing with the bustle and freshening up their ‘dos and makeup. Oh, you’re surprised I follow the bride into the bathroom? Please! When I see the bride and a couple of others try to sneak out to the ladies room, I am all over that stuff, man. I am right there, in there, snapping away because some of the best talk and some of the best shots come when they think nobody’s looking or listening. (Besides, as I’ve mentioned in another blog post, bathrooms have the most amazing light, and they can be pretty photogenic places as well.)
So here I present Eva and her posse. Hustling, bustling, giggling, primping and for 10 minutes, being just a bunch of jr. high girls again, enjoying the camaraderie and chit chat at their first boy/girl dance, or In this case, Eva’s first (and last) wedding.