‘Tis the season: Let’s talk about wedding registries. I’m not a fan, but knowing how they proliferate, I suspect I’m in the minority.
This practice began in 1924 when Chicago’s Marshall Field’s instituted bridal registries for young ladies of the tony set to request china, crystal, and silver flatware – the trifecta of trousseaus. While it was a brilliant ploy by Marshall Field’s in that it worked and brought in gobs of money, a monster was born.
Giving wedding gifts is a tradition that’s been around for eons and can be traced to Ancient Rome. Back then, brides and grooms were considerably younger because the average lifespan hovered around 35, so if couples wanted to see their children grow up, they had them early in life.
Now, however, it’s a whole different ballgame. The average age of marriage for women is 27 and for men, 29. Add to that the fact that many couples are gainfully employed, have respective households or live together and already have everything they need.
The operative word here is need: Registries often focus on wants and can read like glorified letters to Santa. When a 5-year-old announces he or she wants a doll house or Lego® dinosaurs, it’s cute. When a 20-something solicits a $700 panini press, not so much.
Before we got married, both my future husband and I, well into our thirties, each had a fully-furnished house and given that we had everything we needed, the thought of asking for anything seemed insane. We worked for months diminishing our inventories and played the “Whose nicer?” game.
I had nicer living and dining room furniture; he sold his. He had a better microwave, TV, blender; mine went to St. Vincent DePaul. And so it went, whittling down our holdings to the point where, literally, two became one.
Even knowing this, friends and family nagged me to register. I declined because we didn’t need anything in particular. The response always was, “Well, how do I know what to give you?” Assuming you know at least one of the betrotheds, my advice is to figure out something at least one of the betrotheds, figure out something that speaks to them.
If they’re children of friends and you don’t know them well, give money; you can’t go wrong with that. The most important things to bring to a wedding and reception are your best wishes and sparkling personality.
Deep down, though, I fantasized about registering at Walgreens for laundry detergent, toothpaste, bar soap, dental floss (unwaxed) – things I could use and use up. And who wouldn’t love a gift certificate to the pharmacy?
The wonderful gifts we received were a set of hand-painted coffee cups and soup mugs from my dear friend, Jenny, and season tickets to the Jungle Theater from my dear friend, Mitch. I do remember a most puzzling gift: It was a set of wind chimes comprised of pink ceramic dolphins. I stared at them and wondered how things like this even get manufactured. But I remember them after lo, these many years, with the rosy attitude that holds that odd and unusual things make good stories.
Memo to the newly married couple: Write thank-you notes. This pronouncement has not changed. Gush over the towels and the hot dogscented candles and the clock in the shape of a foreign country because no matter how, your guest chose this gift for you. Write the notes with your own hand – no emails, no DMs, no phone calls, no texts, and for the love of God, no generic Facebook blast.
You have three months to get those letters in the mail, which is nothing compared to a lifetime of wedded bliss.
— Dorothy
