Just an additional note to my earlier post: while it's the brides that are motivated to picket bankrupt boutiques, and women who generally hold the title of Bridezilla, I don't want to let the boys off the hook for the general problem of socially-sanctioned self-obsession that comes with planning for That Perfect Day.
We don't talk about too much, but it’s actually the guy who sets the stage for all that’s to follow, the unrelenting quest for perfection in all matters nuptial, and he passes along the infection during the proposal, which far from a simple question on bended knee, now involves almost as much stage production as the wedding itself.
I've been collecting stories of Groomzilla absurdity from around the world. One of my favorites is a North American couple, who got in engaged in Queenstown New Zealand. On a glacier. That the soon-to-be-betrothed was shepherded to in a helicopter. With a blindfold. The ring was in a box. Inside another box. Filled with butterflies. Chilled to a certain temperature to get them to sleep and then carefully warmed by the helicopter pilot so that when the bride opens the box, the butterflies were released (presumably to their doom on that glacier). It's hard to blame a bride for feeling like she might have something to live up to after a proposal like that.
And let’s not forget the bachelor party, in which groomzilla is every bit is persnickety as a the bride choosing her bouquet blossoms. My favorite story in my current collection is the group o' guys that went to the stag capital of the world, Warsaw, to shoot live weapons by day and experience no-holds barred strippers by night. That will definitely prepare the groom -to-be to be a great husband!