17464110:2013_Brides(80)
1/28/2013
3:01 AM
Page 80
The do-over
Five things this Southern belle would change about her wedding day BY CARLA BARNES
Carla and Doug Barnes on their wedding day.
n my early twenties, I worshipped at the church of the Southern belle. I think that explains a lot about why I simply love Maryln Schwartz’s book “A Southern Belle Primer, Or Why Princess Margaret Will Never Be a Kappa Kappa Gamma.” In it she humorously addresses many of the things in our culture we hold dear and, of course, nothing is steeped more in tradition than a Southern wedding. One of my favorite sections, “The Twelve Patterns of the Southern Silver Zodiac,” delves into the type of Southern belle you are based on the sterling silver pattern you select as a bride-to-be. The ornamentation or lack of pattern can reveal everything from a shy belle to a rebellious belle. (Make sure to refer to the section that warns against belles who select acorns.) It is no surprise that I chose Towle’s Old Master. According to the book, the woman who chooses this pattern has spirit, but maintains a sense of tradition. And while this perfectly describes who I am there is a part of me who wishes for a do-over in regards to some of the choices I made for my wedding day 16 years ago to my husband, Doug. Call this a woman’s version of Monday morning quarterbacking, because after all if you marry only once it is our version of the Super Bowl and a ring is included. I actually chose my wedding gown four years before I got married in it. I was at a trunk show and it took exactly 30 minutes to pick the dress that would make its debut at the annual Charity League of Albany’s Debutante Ball. Another something “old” was my mother’s lace-trimmed mantilla she wore to marry my father back in 1970. With two essential items in hand, of course I could not leave well enough alone and check them off the list. I insisted on having the gown’s poufy sleeves (think Princess Diana) tailored to a simpler design and put a headband on the mantilla instead of using its attached comb. My do-over in this circumstance would have been to resist the need to make alterations for the sake of alterations. I should have been focused on finding fabulous shoes. Today I would choose to make my something “new” and “blue” – my shoes. They would be rich, beautiful blue – almost turquoise – and feature buckles covered in pearls and crystals. I also should have allowed my bridesmaids to pick their own style of dresses and shoes. They are the women I would trust with my life – certainly they could have picked an appropriate gown and shoes that would not have left them blisters to remember the day by. I chose 6:30 p.m. September 14, 1996, as kickoff for our wedding festivities. The only trouble with this is that the real game time was over in South Carolina where my beloved Georgia was playing football. The groom most certainly loved me because he enjoyed only stolen moments with a pocket-sized radio and he did not balk at having to wear white pique and a tux that made him look like lord of the manor. He
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