Like most millennials, I rarely talk on the phone. With family, sure. Professionally, absolutely. But socially, it’s texting, DMing, or bust. So, I know that when my friends call me, something is up. And when they FaceTime, these days, without fail, someone is engaged.
I’ve gotten more of those calls than I can count on one hand in the past few years. I see my phone light up, my stomach leaps in excitement, I touch my screen to answer, wait to connect, and then, a second or two later, there she is—a beaming bride-to-be holding up her left-hand sporting shiny new hardware. We laugh, we squeal in excitement, we take screenshots of my ugly crying face in all of its glory. And then, after a few minutes, we hang up and the couple continues to roll their calls.
It’s an experience that is so universal to my generation at this point, others have likely seen it parodied by comedians on their social feeds. But no matter how basic it might seem, it’s still an exciting signal that a friend is embarking on a beautiful new chapter. And that, in some shape or form, I’m about to be along for the ride.
It’s always been a personal point of pride that I’ve kept a lot of my close friends since childhood, and those bonds come from meaningful mutual support. I’ve been a (metaphorical) cheerleader since I’ve known them—as we’ve all pursued academic goals, careers, hobbies, relationships, you name it. But it wasn’t until many of them started getting married, in what seems like rapid succession, that being a hype girl became my entire personality.
Seriously, take one look at my Instagram grid and you’ll see that the majority of my recent posts are either at weddings, showers, or bachelorette parties. While casually catching up with a colleague at a staff outing a few months ago, he paused as if he was going to shift the topic of conversation to something serious. “So, can I ask you a question?” he said, leaning in. I braced myself. “How many weddings have you been to lately?” We both had a good laugh before I vaguely replied, “A lot.”
The actual answer is 10. Ten weddings (six of which required travel and hotel stays and three of which I was included as a bridesmaid), six bachelorette trips, and a bunch of accompanying showers and engagement parties—all across the span of two years. My closet isn’t quite on the level of 27 Dresses, but at this rate, it’ll be there in no time.
Don’t get me wrong, being a professional wedding guest is a real honor, not to mention a ton of fun, but it can also take a lot out of you.
On my desk, there’s a legal pad with big arrows and circles scribbled on it. Beneath color-coded lists of flight prices, hotel totals, dress and alteration costs, hair and makeup transactions, gifts, and additional fees that clog the margins (don’t tell my dad this is how I prefer to calculate expenses) sits the eye-popping grand total: $12,964.
That’s roughly how much I’ve spent in my Wedding Guest Era thus far. And yes, that’s just from the past two years.
When people talk about millennials being the unluckiest generation—the Great Recession, high student loan debt, COVID, etc.—they often forget to mention that we’re also getting married in the age of social media. And in a world where everything is done for the ’gram, prices are climbing, not only for the bride and groom, but for everyone involved.
Bachelorette parties are the perfect example. As my mom has explained to me many times, back in the day, brides threw on a feather boa, bar-hopped around the city, had the time of their lives with a small group, and then called it a night.
Now, “bach bashes” are multi-day trips that often require shelling out thousands. On top of flights, vacation rentals, transportation, meals, drinks, activities, and Costco runs to stock up on alcohol and snacks, there’s another new trend: theme nights that play up the bride’s personality. Fun? Yes—I love a theme. But this means you also have to budget for attire—unless (unlike me) you just happen to have the perfect safari-print fit or neon-colored dress patiently waiting in your wardrobe.
This was all cemented for me last summer, when I had two bachelorette trips booked, on back-to-back weekends, no less. The itineraries for both included specific themed events, and one went so far as to lay out the dress codes in a Canva presentation. As I flipped through slides of bubblegum pink ’90s-core minidresses, tequila sunrise-tinted swimsuits, sparkly Euphoria-inspired looks, and espresso martini color palettes, it hit me that, when it comes to the pre-wedding festivities, we are so not in Kansas anymore.
Sometimes, you’re also asked to chip in for personalized merch, decor, or the bride’s experiences. I want to make it clear, though: None of my friends are greedy bridezillas. This just seems to be the norm now, all thanks to the emphasis on aesthetics and TikTok trends.
Let me grab the mic from the DJ—and raise my glass of pretty decent Champagne—for a second to clarify another point. There’s always the option to decline a bachelorette invite if the plans are too overwhelming in any way (financially or otherwise). This also goes for being in the actual wedding, when dresses and day-of costs come into consideration. It’s a tough conversation to have—yes, I’ve heard the horror stories about weddings ruining friendships—but if you’re genuine in your explanation, and the bride is a true pal, she will understand.
Luckily, I’ve been in a position where I’ve (somehow) been able to swing it—and it’s been a blast. I’ve sipped cocktails on rooftop bars in Charleston, toured breweries in Asheville, snorkeled in Mexico, gone clubbing in Miami, swam in the crystal-clear Pacific in Destin, gambled in Vegas, squished my toes in the sand in Sarasota, and been on more party boats than I care to admit.
Socially, it’s also pushed me out of my shell a bit, too. Though it was nerve-racking to be added to a few bach chats where all of the other numbers were unknown to me, ultimately, some of the most fun trips I’ve been on were the ones where I showed up only knowing the bride. As it turns out, making new friends on an adventure isn’t hard, especially when you have a mutual love for the same person.
Despite the travel exhaustion, aching feet, raspy voice after late nights spent on the dance floor, and even the pit in my stomach after calculating that aforementioned grand total, I’ve never had any regrets.
As I settle into my thirties, being included in all of these celebrations has given me a deeper appreciation for my people. Being asked to be in a bridal party can be a really nice reminder of how much you mean to someone. When you have friends who you consider family, no distance is too far, no outfit (even one that I bought on SHEIN and will likely never wear again) is too over-the-top, and sacrificing a few evenings out to budget for bridesmaid expenses is a piece of cake.
When I look back on this time, I’m not going to remember the Splitwise charges. Or the airport lines. Or the feeling of coming home hungover and sunburnt. But I will remember deep conversations by the pool, the heartfelt toasts, the throwback playlists in the bridal suite on the morning of, and the tears that undoubtedly ruined my airbrushing as I stood next to the bride when she said her vows. That’s what matters.
Sure, supporting your friends is about showing up for them—whether you’re meticulously keeping the bride’s thank-you note gift log at her shower or flying across the country for her destination wedding—but there’s a reason why that signature ugly crying face of mine pops up in every wedding album. Having a front-row seat to the big moments—hiding behind a tree to see the groom’s face during the first look, clocking the soft smiles during the father-daughter dance, jumping around in circles with the bride during the hora—is what makes the hype girl role so special.
In July, I was enjoying a wedding and bachelorette party-free summer when it happened again. The name of one of my closest friends, a ride-or-die texter, popped up on my phone. I picked up my phone—and almost dropped it in excitement—when I saw my own face staring back at me: the all-important FaceTime.
I accepted, waited the requisite few seconds, and saw her: a newly engaged bestie with a glittering rock on her left hand.
A few months later, over Champagne and carbonara at Marta in Upper Fells Point, she asked me to be a bridesmaid in her September wedding. I couldn’t be happier.