You know how in the movies (and in real life sometimes) the emphasis is so heavy on the girl dressing up? When a girl gets ready for prom, she comes down the stairs and everyone oohs and ahhs? When she steps out of the dressing room, cinched into her bridal sample, people sigh and just have a hizzy over her? How the groom's heart skips a beat when he finally sees her walk down the aisle?
You ever notice how that doesn't happen for men?
The man never comes down the stairs to oohs and ahhs like that. They don't get the sighs or the sentimental moment. I don't read about a lot of brides oohing about their groom in his groomwear. People fix their ties and tell them they are handsome, with tight lips and stern expressions, not the soft dewey kind of moment that women are expected to have.
When I made the decision to make my poor Boy and his nephew wear white pants, we had to head to the store and bring the shirts and vests with us. I waited outside the room, bored, staring at the wall and then The Boy emerged from the dressing room in his crisp white dress shirt, chocolate brown vest and white pants. He looked so handsome, so fantastic, so very MINE that I was breathless.
He had his hands on his hips and he kept spinning in circles checking himself out in the mirror and commenting on how much he loved the way it all looked. And my mind spun in circles too — my insides got all gooey as I watched him, full of love, full of lust, and full of excitement. I ran up and I hugged him and kissed him and told him he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He blushed and smiled and preened for the rest of the day.
All grooms should have their moment as well. Hug them and kiss them and tell them they are the handsomest men you've ever seen. Because they are. They are beautiful and flawed and sweet and frustrating and OURS.