Feminist Wedding 101

How to have a feminist wedding
By Anne Kazimirski

Illustration by Meredith Waddell

Seven years ago, when my partner and I announced we were getting married, the main response was: ‘When did he propose?’.  I had actually proposed to him, a response that was often met with raised eyebrows.  As it was soon after February 29^th, some people assumed wrongly I’d waited for this traditional day for women to propose. The practice goes back to the leap year day having no recognition in English law (the day was ‘lept over’ and ignored).  As the day had no legal status, traditions were also overturned. I had no idea about this: I just didn’t see why proposals should remain men’s domain.

Even if the woman is the first to think about getting hitched, which, to be honest, still tends to be the case in almost all relationships, the man is expected to propose. Many women endure years of waiting for the man to get his act together, dropping hints at any opportunity.  In the days when sex before marriage was more likely to be frowned upon, being able to get their loved one into bed tended to be an incentive for men to think about an engagement.  Now, it tends to be women who think ahead more: according to one study they feel ready for marriage around 4 months earlier than men.

The biological clock plays a part (‘If we get married next year, we could start trying for a baby the year after’, etc.) but there has always been more social pressure on women to get married.  My partner and I were together for five years before we got engaged, and I got asked much more than him whether or when we were getting married.  The fairytale and inevitable union that every girl is supposed to wish for is drummed into her, starting with Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.  Little boys are not encouraged to worry about meeting a princess.  Just think about the images spinster versus bachelor conjure up.  Bachelor is cool and attractive - spinster certainly isn’t.

But this doesn’t seem to have led to women making the first move – even if the couple have discussed marriage, and the woman has made her hopes clear, the onus still seems to be on the man to create that romantic moment.  As women tend to think about marriage more, perhaps it’s easier for the man to make the first move, as they can be more certain that their partner will be ready with a positive answer.  Many men might also feel less of a ‘real man’ if they’re not the one to propose.  I’d encourage all waiting women out there to take the risk, even if it means a bit more waiting for the man to get his head round the idea. It seems crazy that there are thousands of women out there who want to get married but can’t because they haven’t been asked.    It’s time for a change in approach.

That’s not the only gender discrepancy.  Why is the visible sign of an engagement – the ring – only for the woman?  The woman becomes visibly ‘taken’ while the man carries on regardless.  In its early days, the ring symbolised the financial commitment of the man to the woman.  Now that women don’t stop working after marriage, this should no longer be relevant.  It strikes me as odd for the declaration of mutual commitment to start out with a one-way gift.  Save the money (an average of £1,412 to be precise) and spend more on the party I say.

Partnership is about equality, isn’t it?  So shouldn’t a celebration of a partnership embrace gender equality, rather than shy away from it?  Although there are now twice as many civil ceremonies as religious ones, the patriarchal traditions are often transplanted from the church to the registry office with little change.  The wedding industry doesn’t help those who want to do anything different.  It makes commercial sense to encourage couples to stick to the routine if it means they’ll buy the veil, the flowers, the cake, or the champagne for the toasts. 

So if you’re up for a feminist wedding, what next?  I would opt for wedding invitations from the couple rather than the bride’s parents.  Nowadays, when couples have been together for years, I know these things tend to be seen as a sweet formality. Like asking the father’s permission, it clearly harks back to the days of women as property, being handed over to the groom. As for the bride arriving on her dad’s arm, the bride and groom coming in together can be just as solemn and powerful (and if you have spent the previous night apart, laying eyes on each other just before the ceremony, in private, will still have that ‘wow’ factor, trust me).  It’s also best to avoid the cliché stag night visit to a lapdancing club.  Supporting a sex industry that objectifies women would detract a bit from the general theme.

The omnipresent white wedding dress, representing purity and virginity, is said to have been made fashionable by Queen Victoria (refuting the traditional royal silver). Women are still more criticised than men if they ever sleep around: as the female ideal is still sexual restraint, women get scorn while men are free to boast.  However women are (thankfully) no longer expected to be virgins when they get married.  So why is the white dress still so popular? “It’s a blatant symbol of the slut/stud double standard!” I restrain myself from shouting when the bride appears.  That would get a few stares.  How about red, purple or green?  Then the bride also doesn’t end up looking just like last Saturday’s bride.

At one wedding I attended, the bride was described affectionately as loud and argumentative by all three men – and yet we still didn’t hear her voice.  The eternal trio of speeches by the father of the bride, groom and best man is decidedly bizarre – I have been to countless weddings where witty and gregarious brides (and bridesmaids) remain silent.  Brides, bridesmaids, best women, mothers, grandmothers no less, stand up, be proud and regale us with your jokes and moving tales.

The woman changing her name to the man’s is probably the most enduring of marriage traditions. As I’ve experienced, keeping your name tends to be met with endless, genuine disbelief, even from supposedly enlightened family and friends.  I know I haven’t got away from the patriarchal system: if the woman keeps her name it is still likely to be her father’s name rather than her mother’s (and her mother’s name was her grandfather’s name anyway).  But as long as you don’t mind strangers assuming you’re not married, it’s a decent option. 

A common reason given by women who go for changing their name is a plan for children, and the wish for all the family to have the same name.  I empathise with this, but why does it always have to be the man’s? I know a couple who flipped a coin to decide which name to use.  At the risk of incurring the wrath of genealogists, I think the coin flip could easily be fitted into the marriage ceremony. Merging names is the obvious alternative, but is only practical if the names are short, and isn’t sustainable if your children’s generation want to merge names too.  If you’re still not sure what to do, help is at hand from the Lucy Stone League.  Named after an 1850s suffragette who kept her name, the U.S. based organisation campaigns for ‘Name choice equality’, and provides creative advice on how to achieve this.

Most women also change their title to Mrs when they get married.  It wasn’t always like this: Miss and Mrs came into use in the 17^th century.  Both titles derive from Mistress, which used to be the feminine equivalent of Mister and didn’t distinguish between married and unmarried women.  Why should women’s marriage status but not men’s be indicated by their title?  In the 1970s Ms came to the rescue.  More widely used in the US, Ms still hasn’t really caught on in this country. 

It’s easy to get on to the wedding conveyor belt and do what everyone expects, particularly with the daunting task of organising a big do.  Future couples, I urge you to find the energy to strike out, be bold and celebrate in a way that reflects your relationship and the 21^st century world you live in.