Ask me your questions, and I’ll tell you no lies. Three things you should know: 1. Bridezilla isn’t a bad word—you’re the star of your show, and let’s face it, people around you don’t always get the memo. We’re here to cheer you on. 2. The questions are real, and the answers are real too. But this is not therapy. 3. These are personal views, and we love a good laugh.
My MIL just called my ivory lehenga ‘bland’. She thinks brides should be visible from space. Should I give in?
Ah, mothers of the groom—the characters even the most perceptive writers couldn’t conjure up. Even the loveliest of them struggle with boundaries, and let’s face it, at weddings, all lines get erased in the sand. My friend has a theory: what you allow at the beginning of your relationship with your future in-laws sets the stage for your future dynamic. How we start is how we go on, and all that. So, let’s not start off as a doormat.
Girl, hold your ground. It’s your day. Your look. Your choice. Whether you choose to be a Barbie Bride or a Retro Rani, she doesn’t get a say. To her, it may be vanilla, but if it spells perfection to you, that’s all that matters. Tell her you are already heaven-sent—the shining star in her son’s life. Nothing, no one, and no lehenga can dull your sparkle. The end.
I got proposed to with an ugly AF ring. Should I speak up?
I have two words for you: hell, yes! What are you waiting for, girl? Go get the bling you want. We all enter our first wedding with the hope that it’ll be our only one—so why let bad aesthetics ruin the moment? I blame this inability to voice our needs on that long-perpetuated trope of a fiancé picking out the ‘perfect’ ring to prove how well they know you. But honestly, sometimes it’s just a case of bad taste. Not enough to stop loving them, but enough to say: “Babe, love you but hate the ring. We need to swap this for something I’d actually want to wear every single day.” A woman in 2025 cannot simply resign herself to her fate—she needs to take control and design the beauty in her own life. Think about it—are you really willing to wear ugliness on your gel-manicured fingers? Stare at it day after day for the rest of your life? Just because you think it’s impolite to speak your mind? I hope the answer is no. Because life is too short to wear anything ugly.
Help! My best friend insists on a speech at my reception that includes a ‘funny roast’—I’m getting married, not hosting a Netflix special!
As someone who has attended my fair share of weddings, let me tell you this—roasts, toasts, or boasts, quite frankly, most speeches are hella boring. IME (in my experience), most guests just hit the bar while the college roommate/sorority sister/thesis partner shares some drunken tale of you dancing on tables a decade ago, or that ABCD cousin drawls on about summers at Nani’s house—oiling your hair, eating mangoes, and planning your dream wedding. You’re right about one thing: this isn’t Netflix, where you can hit fast-forward. If you do decide to let your bestie toast you with a few words (few being the operative word), then honey, you’ve just got to cruise with it. Let’s not be the censor board—laugh it off, all within the limits of brevity, of course. There’s a reason this person is your best friend and not your frenemy, right?
My fiancé’s ex is on the guest list because ‘she’s practically family.’ Should I uninvite her or just let her marvel at the life she missed out on?
Define ‘family.’ To paraphrase the late, great Princess Diana—will there be three of you in this marriage? Because that, my friend, may be a problem. We all have ghosts from our past. The question is—do we want to resurrect them? I don’t need to tell you about trust, communication, boundaries, yada yada yada—all the foundations of a great marriage. You’re getting married, so clearly, you’ve established where you stand with each other (and if not, then the guest list isn’t your only problem, but I digress). So, I’ll say this: go with your gut. And if your fiancé digs in? Then, tit for tat can always be the answer—bring in your own bevy of exes and give them a seat at the table too. I kid. Kind of.
