The bride’s mom wore what was basically a wedding dress and insisted on walking her daughter up the aisle with her ex-husband. After the wedding, we found out that the photographer had become enamored with the maid of honor, and at least 50% of the pictures he took were of her. There were zero portraits of just the bride and groom.
It all escalated into chaos when the bride, Sarah, confronted her mom mid-reception. “This is my day, not yours!” she hissed, tears streaming. Mom, in her flowing white gown that outshone Sarah’s, feigned innocence: “I just wanted to feel special too.” The ex-husband, awkward in his tux, tried mediating but ended up spilling champagne on himself during the toast, turning heads for all the wrong reasons.
Then came the photos bombshell. Sarah’s best friend, the maid of honor Lisa, blushed when accused. The photographer, a sleazy guy named Mark, admitted he’d “fallen for her vibe” and deleted couple shots to “focus on art.” We demanded refunds—$5,000 down the drain—and reported him to his agency. Lisa distanced herself, claiming ignorance, but whispers of flirtation ruined friendships.
In the end, Sarah and groom Tom eloped for real portraits in Hawaii. Mom’s banned from future events; she’s now therapy-bound for her attention-seeking. Lesson: Vet photographers like FBI suspects and set bridal boundaries early. Our “perfect” wedding? A hilarious horror story we laugh about now.
