Style Girlfriend Guide to: Fancy Wedding RSVPs
I just got back from a whirlwind weekend to Wisconsin for a high school friend’s wedding, but Megan’s Year O’Matrimony rolls on. I’ve got one more wedding before the year is out, in November, and it’s sure to be the fireworks finale to this recent string of celebrations. It’s at the Pierre and it. will. be. fancy.
The bride is shockingly nice for coming from money with a capital “MM.” My good friend, her fiance, calls her parents’ home “the manor.” I went there for the engagement party, and let me assure you, he’s downgrading it with that assesment.
Thankfully, they’re not showy about their good fortune, but a black tie affair doesn’t come without its drama. I heard about an intense debate over whether the waiters should wear white gloves, standard fare at the hotel butting up against Central Park. The bride’s mother fought against it; she thought it would be “too much.” There’s been much discussion about the bride and groom’s “signature” cocktails.
But so I got the invitation in the mail, and, well, I was stumped. It was the size of a refrigerator manual, and I didn’t know what to do with it all. There was a very sturdy invitation, directions to the wedding, and a blank 3×5 card that I assumed I was supposed to do…something with.
Not wanting to have to ask the groom – I can be fancy too, damnit! – I checked in with another friend on the guest list.
“I don’t know how to respond to Steve’s wedding invite!” I wrote. “Usually there’s a box to check! Do I just write on the little card: ‘I, Megan Collins, will be attending (and I’d like fish, but if there’s no fish then I’ll have the steak)’?”
After my friend assured me I wasn’t, in fact, an idiot, he told me he’d gone through a similarly confusing situation the previous year and he’d had to do his own recon mission.
So in case you find yourself facing your own fancy invite in the future, here’s what my friend said:
Basically, you’re right. You write a little note saying you’ll be coming and expressing congratulations in a style somewhere between “signing a contract” and “signing an acquaintance’s yearbook” (“I, Blank Blank, will be attending and look forward to celebrating with you guys!”) There’s a little number in the corner for people who forget to put their names in the note.
Oh, and the menu isn’t finalized until a tasting coming up, so you don’t need to put a food preference (FYI: I’m told Dover Sole is the favorite for fish).
Good to know!