7 Reasons I’m Tired Of Being A Damn Bridesmaid

Adina Ferguson
Slackjaw
Published in
4 min readOct 1, 2019
Photo by TREGG MATHIS on Unsplash

Dear Family and Friends,

Stop asking me to be in your wedding. I wrote a whole book titled I DON’T WANT TO BE YOUR BRIDESMAID, which you bought, read, and told me you loved. Unless, of course, you were lying. So, what is it about me that leads you to falsely believe I want to get fancied up in a dress I can only wear once, help plan events I rather not attend, and shove out money that could be better spent on overpriced DoorDash deliveries? Whatever it is, I’m over it. And you. And your little raggedy dude.

So, to the next best friend, cousin, stranger who gets engaged on Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve or your birthday, here are seven reasons I’m already declining your future bridesmaid invitation:

1. It’s nothing but an unpaid internship

I’ve done this four times already. I am still waiting for some form of financial compensation for my participation. Being a bridesmaid means you’re coming out of pocket for e v e r y t h i n g. Dress. Shoes. Hair. Mani/pedi. Makeup. Accessories. The honeymoon. And I’m not talking a Ben Franklin or two. Tuh. I graduated from college 10 years ago and I’m still overworked and underpaid. I don’t need any more experience, nor do I work for free. Run me my money, sis. $399.95.

2. Your taste in bridesmaid dresses is questionable

Given the varying body shapes of the bridal party, as the bride-to-be, I believe it is your duty to think about someone other than yourself. Last time I looked in the mirror, there wasn’t a fruit or bottle shape to describe what I have going on. Thus, me and my jiggly puff arms and stomach are not a fan of tight-fitting material that does not stretch. I don’t need to see the silhouette of my granny panties. I need flare, darling. And a dress that allows me to show off these thick, gorgeous legs (because, ahem, I’m hella clumsy and will trip over anything that stops short of my ankles).

3. Your man’s groomsmen aren’t prospects

At 30-something, the only real reason I would agree to be a bridesmaid is for scouting purposes. If life is a game, I’m trying to be the best GM I can be. Hey, Jerry West. So, in reality, this is how the initial conversation between me and brideski should go:

“Adina, will you be my bridesmaid?”

“Who all goin’ be a groomsman?”

If you really care about your single loved one, you would provide a list of your boo’s starting lineup, so my fingers can do the rest on social media. I find it unfair to have me look so expensively stunning on your big day just for me to head down the aisle with someone I would walk right past in real life, or worse, he’s already taken, so I have no choice but to walk past him in real life. You don’t really care about me, fam. You can stop pretending. I have.

4. My feet weren’t made for stilettos

Or anything higher than two-inch heels. I’m the woman that never learned how to walk in heels, who prefers employment with companies that have super casual workdays. The more opportunities to showcase my Chuck Taylor and Air Max collection, the better.

5. I might not like the rest of your bridal party

I have a handful of friends. For a reason. I know the personality types I work well with. I stay away from the ones I don’t. I put the square in SpongeBob SquarePants so there’s a 70% chance I’m going to have nothing in common with the rest of the elite members of the Bridesmaids Club. Like Des, who prefers barhopping til 2 a.m. in a pair of knock-off red bottoms. I don’t want to be forced into a massive group chat of never-ending foolery and late responses. I’d rather just kick it with the fellas. Or home alone, Kevin McCallister style.

6. You don’t respect my time

Of course, I should block off my calendar the day of the wedding, but let’s say I don’t. Let’s say I inadvertently penciled in a date immediately thereafter. The way I see it, once y’all say “I do” and we’ve gathered as a big ass group to pose for countless photos, I should be able to exit stage right. So, why can’t we have each other’s back? Why can’t the ceremony start on time? As printed on the wedding invitation. Why does it have to be more than 30 minutes behind schedule? By the time folks done ate, wobbled on the dance floor, and you and the mister cut the cake, it’s past my bedtime. And calls to my date are going to voicemail because he’s fallen asleep. Inserts eye-rolling emoji.

7. I don’t want to

That’s it.

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