I love weddings. I mean, I really love weddings. I enjoyed every single time I was a bridesmaid. Taffeta is still my favorite fabric. But once you get to a certain age, no one asks you to be a part of their wedding. There are junior bridesmaids; why can’t there be senior bridesmaids? I am a little embarrassed by what I’ve done to try and secure my place in a bridal party. Congratulatory cards with checks enclosed have been sent, parties thrown in honor of the couple, and an occasional snide remark about one of the bridesmaids not living up to their duties and how I could easily step in. Nothing worked. So when my nephew Michael announced he finally was going to marry the beautiful Katie, I changed my approach. I offered to marry them. They were having a destination wedding in Charleston, South Carolina, and before he could say no, I got licensed by two different ministries. Sadly, they knew a minister and preferred to use someone who had been inside of a church in the past 10 years.
And then it happened. I am sure you felt it. The earth moved under my feet (just like Carole King’s) on Sept. 15 when my brother John, the groom’s dad, asked if I would transport the wedding gown since I was driving and he was flying. This was significant for two reasons. One, I finally was going to have a role in the wedding! And two, as the youngest of six, my family normally does not think of me as a responsible adult. Maybe because I still say things like, “Don’t ask me. I’m the youngest.”
My brother told me I would be listed in the wedding program for my duties, but I needed to figure out what I wanted to be called. He also said I could choose the font and color. That’s when I should have been suspicious. He is never that accommodating. So I thought about my title: wedding gown transporter, wedding dress courier or marriage robe transporteur were some options. I liked the last one because it was French and then I would be Patrice Hannum in the program. Tres chic!
I received an email from my great-niece Ally, who was working on the program and needed the exact verbiage. Now, Ally is a freshman in high school and in most families, this would seem a little young to be in charge of creating a wedding program, but our family tends to be great at delegating to anyone and everyone. But as I read further, it appeared that her little sister Bridget was the one who would make sure my name was properly placed in the program. Bridget is adorable, of course, but I am not even sure she is 10. And that’s when I knew my brother had hustled me … some might say lied.
You see, I never was going to be part of the wedding party or acknowledged in the program. He had a task that needed to be done that would be a hassle for him since he had to change planes. So he delegated to his little sister. He knew there was no way I could screw this task up. The wedding gown safely arrived in Charleston. I brought my ministry licenses with me just in case the minister became ill; he did not. The programs were lovely but did not include Patrice Hannum. The wedding was perfect. And my brother John is still the King of Delegators.
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
