Why Do We Judge Other People’s Weddings?

This article explores the reasons behind why we judge other people's weddings. It delves into the cultural and personal factors that contribute to wedding snobbery, examining how societal expectations and personal biases influence our perceptions and criticisms of others' celebrations.

Weddings are unique, one-time declarations of wealth, taste, and social status. It's perhaps human nature to want to analyze and critique them.

A non-exhaustive list of things I have arbitrarily strong feelings about when it comes to weddings includes: headbands, having more than five bridesmaids, banning espresso martinis, the song "Mr. Brightside" (argh!), the "hats optional" policy (both stuffy and stressful), and any kind of day-after event.

I'm hardly alone in my convictions. Here’s a non-exhaustive list of things other people tell me they find tasteless: naked dresses, lab-grown diamonds, wedding hashtags, too many speeches, not enough speeches, and asking for a Peloton.

The point is, people love to gossip about weddings—some more than others, and I include myself in that group. We know these opinions are absurd and possibly ungrateful, especially considering that the average cost of a wedding in the US is $304 per person, far more than I've ever spent on a friend. It’s fun to play armchair critic at a public spectacle and see if your idea of what's cool diverges wildly from someone else's—but occasionally, the conversation can veer into snootiness.

This kind of commentary, which would label you a ghastly snob in any other context, is somehow fair game when it comes to weddings. It’s rare to hear someone say their friend wore a tacky dress to a party, but I’ve definitely heard people make that kind of comment about a friend’s wedding dress. It isn't lost on me that often the highest compliment given to a wedding is that it was “classy.”

Why do weddings inspire such judgment and critique? “A wedding is this massive once-in-a-lifetime celebration, and it is a place where people are going to spend,” says Elise Taylor, a writer at Vogue who covers weddings. According to The Knot, the average cost of a US wedding in 2023 was $35,000, with costs in large cities like New York reaching $63,000. “It’s really everyone saying: this is the best, this is my dream, this is what I want to put forth into the world,” Taylor explains. And if you put it forth, people will judge.

Weddings reveal much about how a couple wants to be perceived, and the potentially significant gap between their intentions and the actual reception can cause great anxiety. One bride, who asked to remain anonymous, was shocked by the flower budget of a friend's wedding; she hadn’t planned on spending nearly as much. “She’ll probably come to my wedding and think, ‘You absolute paupers, you’ve scrimped.’”

It’s not entirely our fault that we’re snobby about weddings; historically, we didn’t start it. Stephanie Coontz, a historian whose book "Marriage, A History" was cited in the US Supreme Court decision on marriage equality, explains that weddings have historically reinforced class divisions. Marrying into another class was difficult, while elite marriages were about expanding economic and political power. Weddings served to underline power, social connections, and the value of alliances.

In the 19th century, the aspirational middle class, inspired by penny paper stories about aristocratic weddings, began imitating high-society affairs. Many wedding traditions we observe today stem from this era of social climbing. For example, the white dress, often thought to symbolize purity, actually signified wealth. When Queen Victoria married Prince Albert in an ivory Spitalfields silk dress, it set a trend. White dresses were costly to make and clean, signaling that the wearer could afford such luxury. In 1949, Brides magazine still assured brides that a fabulous white gown would make them “queen of the day.”

Today, we eagerly follow the weddings of the wealthy and stylish as if they were celebrities. Taylor says that Vogue Weddings emerged from the enthusiastic reaction to their royal wedding coverage. Weddings are “deeply fun to gossip about,” she notes. “Vogue Weddings is kind of the extension of that culture that we all participate in. It’s just online.” Her team selects weddings that will spark conversation: those featuring celebrities, but also unique elements like naked dresses or a bride who wore jeans.

Before the internet, we only saw the weddings we actually attended; now, we can see the weddings of almost everyone we know—and many we don’t. Some wedding enthusiasts embrace this visibility. “If you’re getting married and feel comfortable, you should be public on Instagram for that weekend,” says Tatiana Bravo, 30, who works in tech and has attended up to 30 weddings. “Everybody wants to creep on other people’s weddings, even people they don’t really know.”

Many of us would argue that it's human nature to want to dissect such a big event. “It’s kind of like, do you enjoy gossip? And if anyone tells you no, that’s a lie,” says Molly Levine, 26, a product manager from New York, who has seven weddings to attend this year. “It’s a proven thing – it’s easier to connect with other people when you’re gossiping.”

Wedding criticism falls into two categories: things that affect you and things that do not. The first includes common gripes like wedding sprawl (additional events that mushroom around a wedding) or the growing expense of attending as a guest. The second is really an evaluation of taste, “one of the more emotional, and socially ostracising, dimensions of the class systems in which we live,” as British writer Nathalie Olah puts it in her book "Bad Taste."

What is considered “good taste” varies—some may view a staggeringly expensive “classic” wedding in a petticoat-white Connecticut church as the ideal, while others might prefer a louche “anti-wedding” (2024’s hottest trend, where couples forgo tradition for a more authentic party) at their favorite Brooklyn restaurant. Either way, calling a wedding tasteful is an appraisal of a couple’s financial, cultural, and social capital—and a reflection of our own. This is where the cheap shots about ugly bridesmaids' dresses come in.

Discussions about the champagne’s vintage dry up quickly; talking about what actually happened at the wedding is much juicier. Etiquette can inspire endless hot takes. Bravo mentions the fraught exercise of picking bridesmaids, while Levine says she and her friends debate “what’s appropriate”: Can you decline extra events? Should you give a gift if you’re already spending hundreds on a plane ticket? Guest comforts are another popular topic. Were there enough bartenders to prevent long waits? Were plus-ones allowed? Often, more money means nicer flowers and better-looked-after guests. As Xochitl Gonzalez writes in an Atlantic piece about wedding planners: “It costs a lot to make something look nice; it costs even more to make it feel nice – to ensure all your guests are comfortable, well-fed, and entertained... Unlike bags or jewelry, you can’t really knock off a nice wedding.”

But perhaps the worst thing you can say about a wedding is that it wasn’t fun. While expensive planning helps ensure a seamless guest experience, ultimately, a fun wedding comes down to the people. I love discussing the frothy parts of a wedding, but what I really care about is the seating plan; I want to make new friends and scream-sing "Angels" with them, all while celebrating a couple we adore. As Coontz says, “Before they became a tool of class exclusion, weddings were really about—and at their best can still be about—bringing two different sets of communities or friendship networks together.”

The loveliest wedding I ever attended embodied this perfectly. While I remember the exquisite dahlias and the pan con tomate canapés, what stuck with me was an old Irish tradition of warming the rings. Guests passed the rings around, then back to the couple; this journey made them a symbol of not just the couple’s love for each other, but also our love for them. This ritual connected a glorious mix of people from different countries who might never have otherwise met. We came together, bonded, and had a bloody good time.

We might all have snobby tendencies, but most of us are more invested in connecting with one another. A great wedding is fun—and so is a good gossip. What better way to keep a party going than by talking about it?

Source: theguardian