Category Archives: Witty

Tuxedo 911: How My Husband Lost His Tux On Our Wedding Night

Mr. Yenta’s Tuxedo
May 25, 2008 – May 25, 2008
Loyal Fancy Suit and Trusted Wedding Costume
RIP

That’s right. Let’s pour a little out for my husband’s wedding tuxedo, which we recently discovered had passed away, most likely, on our wedding night. One wear – and an important one! – but such a short life in Mr. Yenta’s side of the closet.

A few months before our wedding, he purchased his Ralph Lauren (ooo! Fancy!) tuxedo from the tux shop that also outfitted the rentals for the groomsmen. Because he wishes he lived in the world of The Great Gatsby, he wanted to own a tuxedo and to wear it to future formal events. Trouble is, we’re not living out our years at speakeasies and garden parties, so Ralph the Tux wasn’t seeing the light of day.

Finally, four years after our wedding, we would have two formal weddings to attend, giving reason for Husband Yenta to unearth Ralph from the avalanche of work polos and khakis to try on for the upcoming nuptials of our good friends and his sister, events that were happening two weeks apart.

The biggest concern was the elephant in the room: would Ralph still glide right on like butta the way it did on our wedding day or had four years of marital bliss also brought on marital bulge?

Well, friends, you’ll have to stay in suspense because the truth is, we don’t know.

(this is probably a good thing).

(except it’s not because there’s more to this story).

When Mr. Yenta brought Ralph into the light of our bedroom, he noticed that the jacket did not match the pants. The pants were labeled as Ralph as they should, but the jacket was a random, generic name and was accompanied by [gasp!] a bar code!

It’s a little tricky to replay the series of events that took place four years ago after coming off the high of getting married and a perfect night, but we, Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, deduced that upon the scurry of gathering up our items at the end of our wedding night, Mr. Yenta’s purchased Ralph Lauren tuxedo jacket got scooped up and piled up with the rentals that the groomsmen were returning the next day. Do not worry, dear ones. The Ralph Lauren tuxedo pants remained on his person.

After a hot and steamy Horah, my dashing groom probably removed his jacket, draped it over a chair, and, never to be worn again, would go back to the rental store from which it was purchased, and live among the coming and going jackets of a lesser caliber. And what my husband took home? One of the groomsmen’s assigned weekend jacket.

Apparently, the tux shop counted units and paid no attention to the labels on the inside of the returned tuxedos. “One, two, three, four? Yup. Got ’em! Thanks for your business! Mazel tov and ta ta!”

So now the lower half of the Ralph Lauren tuxedo has been orphaned without a buddy. The tuxedo shop has changed its entire scanning system since our wedding five years ago – we checked – and the Ralph is long gone. Once worn. Never forgotten.

The moral of this sad tale that details the demise of an otherwise perfect penguin suit? At the end of your wedding reception, please do make sure your husband leaves with his jacket. Make sure that the groomsmen all leave with theirs. Menswear isn’t exactly too exciting to the naked eye, and it’s too easy for them to be mistaken for similar versions.

As for the two weddings we enjoyed last year? Well, it was just too soon to replace the fallen formalwear. Blame it on sentimentality. Blame it on the left the bottom half of Ralph behind and joined the ranks of the renters. It all worked out and one day, he’ll purchase a new tux, but maybe we’ll settle on something that can’t get mixed up; polka dots or zebra stripe print would really be fun, wouldn’t it?

Go Hug Your Mom

Ten years ago, before I was a bride and before I even met Mr. Yenta, my mom turned 50 and was in the middle of treatment for breast cancer. I was only a college student with a zillion other concerns on my mind and not even at home to be by her side or fully understand the stresses of watching a loved one go through cancer. I knew she would beat it and she did. For that, I am so grateful.

Five years ago, my family participated in the Revlon Run/Walk for Women's Cancers in Los Angeles celebrating my mom's victory!

Five years ago, my family participated in the Revlon Run/Walk for Women’s Cancers in Los Angeles celebrating my mom’s victory!

Things have changed a lot in those ten years: I graduated college, I went on lots of ridiculous dates, I met and married my wonderful husband, I started and ended at a few different companies, I started The Wedding Yentas, and I had a daughter of my own. Thank goodness she beat that cancer biatch and she’s around to be able to witness all of these milestones.

Today is her 60th birthday!

I think back to one of my main milestones, my wedding, and try to think how it would have been different to experience it without a Jewish mother. Who would’ve nagged me to make sure I bring my Spanx to each dress fitting? Who would’ve looked over each contract with a careful eye to make sure that my guests were getting enough to eat? Who would’ve told me I was ridiculous for harping on dumb things? Who would’ve been so, so, so generous with shower gifts or her time at vendor meetings? I know how lucky I was to have my mom so involved in my wedding and am thankful to have had that experience with her.

My mom and me the morning of my bridal shower. It was such a fun experience with her!

My mom and me the morning of my bridal shower. It was such a fun experience with her!

My mom takes my arm as we are about to walk down the aisle at the wedding rehearsal and we got gussied up for the rehearsal dinner later that night!

My mom takes my arm as we are about to walk down the aisle at the wedding rehearsal and we got gussied up for the rehearsal dinner later that night!

I also know that not every bride is in my position to have her mama by her side, so my wish is for every bride to have a special mom-like woman along for the ride who will take on the duties and role of a Mother of the Bride. Whether it’s an aunt, a grandma, a best friend, or a cousin, women should have a mentor; You should be able to count on someone wise, who loves you, but is just objective and fearless enough to play a good round of Devil’s Advocate/Jewish Mother.

So on her big birthday (omg she’s going to kill me for this), I want to wish my mom a happy day and year ahead, and thank her for kicking cancer’s ass ten years ago and being part of my life for the past decade. There will only be more exciting things to share together and while they may not be as beautiful or consuming as a wedding (you SO know what I mean, ladies!), I know the importance of my mother’s role in my life and I hope all of you Yentas also have a lady you can hug who’s been just as important during your wedding planning or other big life moments.

For the past few weeks, my mom and dad have been jetsetting to celebrate another big event; not only is my mom turning 60 today, but next month, they celebrate 40 years of marriage. It was their wedding album that gave me the wedding obsession bug, and, hence, The Wedding Yentas as we know it. And while they’ve been off galavanting through some of the world’s most beautiful cities, I’ve missed her! Chatting through opposite time zones makes it tricky to catch up, and Baby Yenta has definitely been without her Mimi for far too long. She comes back home today (Happy birthday from TSA! Here’s an intrusive pat down that may as well be a pap smear) and I’m so excited to celebrate this big birthday with her.

Thanks for being born, Mom.

Important moments from my wedding day with my mom by my side.  Photos by Eight20 Photography

Important moments from my wedding day with my mom by my side.
Photos by Eight20 Photography

  • Gwendolyn Tundermann Photography says:

    What a beautiful and inspiring woman! Happy birthday!

  • sharon says:

    Thank you very much for the beautiful tribute. We have shared so many wonderful occasions & moments—and there’s no stopping us. We have way more to share. Being able to be by your side as you planned your wedding & then walk you down the aisle was a highlight of my life. Of course you’re glad I was born or else YOU wouldn’t be here. 😉 And by the way, the TSA only had to feel me around my ankles (?)!
    Love you very much! Mom

Attacking The Cocktail Hour

2012 was definitely the year of love, as my husband and I attended five weddings from August to December! By now, we feel we have memorized the general wedding ceremony and have mastered the art of leaving a guestbook message. Three of those weddings were Jewish weddings, so we definitely got our fair share of Horah time, and if I don’t do another grapevine for a couple more months, my feet (in heels!) will be OK.

No, really, weddings are fun, and we are lucky that members of our circle of friends and family are tying the knot and joining the Marrieds Club.

All this wedding-guesting, though, has gotten my husband quite a reputation as the Cocktail Hour Stalker. It sounds creepier than it is. What this means is that his favorite time of the whole Wedding Olympics is that glorious hour between the “I do” and the dancing: Cocktail Hour, AKA sixty minutes of miniature food items being passed around on trays, like a real life episode of Downton Abbey.

By the fifth wedding of the year in Chicago, our friends at the wedding checked in with my husband to make sure he was OK. Not because he’d fallen on aisle treatments. Not because he drank too much during the toasts. But to make sure he’d had enough of those coveted mac and cheese cups, or tomato soup shots and mini grilled cheese sandwiches duets, or beef satay wraps. Apparently, his consumption and approval of the hors d’oeuvre were a front-and-center concern.

Floataway Studio

Floataway Studio

Cocktail houring is basically an artform. If you have upcoming weddings on your calendar, here are some ways to enjoy this foodtastic time, as demonstrated by Husband Yenta (Yento?):

  • There’s the obvious Stand At The Kitchen Exit method. After the ceremony, find the space between the exit and the kitchen. Make like a lion in the Serengeti and lie in wait. When the unsuspecting cocktail hour server appears with tray in hand, pounce.
  • However, the above tactic won’t work if the servers get smart to your method. At the last wedding we went to, the servers sprinted out of the kitchen avoiding the area where people congregated to get their paws on the grub. In that case, head toward the back of the room. Servers will also tend to cover this section to accommodate some more sedentary guests, like older folks. I’m NOT condoning you steal appetizers out of the hands of senior citizens. I’m merely advising an additional location for prosperous appetizer consumption.
  • Split up. Make alliances. This is serious business. Partner up with your wedding date or another friend in case the servers are onto your shenanigans. Each of you can take turns picking up appetizers and sharing them. Maybe you are on chicken skewer duty while your partner is in charge of bruschetta. Divide and conquer.
  • Make friends with the servers. One of the servers at a 2012 wedding was a bit of a cranky pants. Every time we’d try to take an appetizer from her tray, she’d run away. She even began to appear from the kitchen with NAPKINS ON TOP OF THE FOOD to HIDE it from US. She was on a mission to keep food out of our hungry bellies. So instead, we found a young, cute, not-a-sour-puss server and told him that Scowly Face over there wasn’t stopping for us and could he help a sista out? His perfectly Crest-whitened teeth sparkled and I swore I heard a “ding!” when he smiled. Sure enough, all the mac-and-cheese cups were ours to enjoy for eternity… if the cocktail hour had gone on that long. Besties for life, yo.
  • If all else fails, drink. It IS cocktail hour after all.