But you still need to activate your account.
I’m getting married this summer. There. It’s out. When I got engaged, I made a silent promise not to bore my readers with all the details about the dress (ivory silk) and the shoes (flip-flops) and the reception (outdoors).
Because I shop for a living, it’s only fair that I jump straight to the meat of the matter: the registry.
All of the bridal magazines – and I truly have read them all – will tell you that this is one of the highlights of being engaged. You and your sweetie get to go to a department store and pick out all of the things you’ve always wanted but would never buy for yourself. Then, the store puts them all in a database so that all of your guests, even the ones who live in Alaska, will know exactly what you hope to eat off of, cook with, and sleep on.
ShopGuy didn’t think this was such a good idea. For starters, we’re both in our late 20s. We have way too much stuff as it is. But the key to a happy marriage, they say, is compromise. So I mentioned Best Buy and The Home Depot. Speakers and power tools. We compromised. But the questions lingered: Do we really need another set of wineglasses? A $100 coffee maker? A better surround sound system?
Now, the magazines, which make their money off advertisers such as Macy’s and Crate & Barrel and Bed Bath & Beyond, will tell you yes, of course you need new everything: You’re getting married! Who cares about what you need, this is the time to get what you want.
There is a grain of truth to this. It is considered good etiquette to register because it makes things easier for your guests. If you don’t register, you run the risk of getting all sorts of interesting things from relatives who haven’t seen you in 10 years. I mean, what would you rather receive, a set of crystal wine glasses or a pair of cow-print pillows from Aunt Edna who remembered how much you just loved cows when you were 6?
Still, the registry does seem a bit impersonal. Pushy, even. But once they set you loose with that little UPC gun, you lose all sense of remorse. It’s a little dangerous. Suddenly, you’ve convinced yourself that not only do you need new martini glasses, but you need both the small size and the large size, so that you can meet the needs of all your friends, not just the lightweights.
It can quickly spiral out of control. One of my co-workers said I should register for the Coach bag I’ve lusted after for the last three years because it would eliminate a future argument over the prudence of spending $125 on a purse. Coach could be essential to marital harmony, she said, egging me on.
I resisted the high-end purse, but the process is not without pitfalls: Filene’s didn’t sell the pots we wanted as open stock, and we already have enough pans to fry omelets for a small but tasteful army. So I started a registry at Bed Bath & Beyond. We found the dishes and flatware we wanted at Crate & Barrel. Three isn’t too bad, I rationalized.
Then I found out about The Home Depot’s registry. It’s not as easy to use as the rest – you have to walk around and write everything down rather than wave the magic wand – but practicality is practicality, and we needed to make some home improvements.
Four. A little excessive, but still livable.
I was content. Happy even. Until last weekend, when I went to buy a shower gift for an out-of-state friend who registered at Macy’s and Williams-Sonoma. Since I couldn’t easily get to either of those stores, I headed down to the trusty Grasshopper Shop, where I knew I would find something beautiful and practical. As I checked out, I was chatting with the owner about my friend’s shower as well as my upcoming wedding.
“Oh,” she said. “You should do a column about bridal registries.”
“Do you have one here?” I asked.
Of course they do. But I can’t justify five. I just can’t. Although, I really do need a new chandelier – who doesn’t? It would look great over the dinner table. And while I’m at it, there was a set of candle holders I liked. And a welcome mat. And a shower curtain. And …
ShopGirl would love to hear from you. Send questions, comments or suggestions by mail to: Kristen Andresen, Bangor Daily News, P.O. Box 1329, Bangor, ME 04402-1329; by e-mail to kandresen@bangordailynews.net or by fax to 941-9476.
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