Say Yes To The Dress And Also The Couch

Opening Argument: Say Yes To The Dress And Also The Couch

If you’re not familiar, the gist is that it’s an unscripted-ish show where brides come to Kleinfeld, a Manhattan bridal store, and choose their dresses. Accompanied by family members, friends, future in-laws and various goofballs, they try on ball gowns, fit and flare dresses, mermaid dresses, high-low dresses — all of which are things I didn’t really know anything about before I watched this show. Some of the brides are sweet and lovely; some are annoying and spoiled. In about 95 percent of cases, the bride finds her ideal dress and leaves happy. In the cases where she doesn’t, it’s usually because she allegedly does something wrong during her appointment with her consultant (salesperson): She tries on a dress that’s way above her budget and can’t like anything else after that, or she listens too much to her entourage and gets confused, or she gets worn down by insults by her mother. (Very insulting mothers are a recurring theme.) 

Having never shopped for a wedding dress and rarely shopped for formal dresses at all, I am not an obvious candidate to enjoy this show. After a certain period of time, you feel like you’ve seen just about every kind of dress there is in the world, and just about every kind of woman trying to look comfortable while wearing them. (Every now and then, a bride tries on a dress that looks really comfortable and stretchy, and I always internally vote for that one. Girl, you are going to have a long day. Wear jammies material.) 

Like most reality shows, Say Yes To The Dress has done increasingly weird things to try to spruce itself up over the years. For the first season, it was mostly women helping each other try on clothes; then they added Randy Fenoli, a one-time bridal designer and beloved-ish friendly elf of sorts. He works at Kleinfeld as a kind of uber-consultant, flitting from one appointment to another telling women what looks good on them and pulling dresses — «pulling,» here, refers to retrieving a sample dress from the stockroom so the bride can try it on. Randy has gradually occupied more and more of the time on the show, eventually got himself a spin-off, and then went back to designing dresses (while still working at the store and on the show). This means that women who are coming in for dresses sometimes have a dress «suggested» to them by a staff member whose line it comes from, which is the most toweringly obvious conflict of interest that has ever really not mattered at all.
 

Perhaps it’s the very low stakes. They buy a dress, or they don’t, I think it looks good on them, or I don’t. The only really bad thing that ever happens is that you see someone who is clearly being emotionally wrung out by a member of their entourage in a way that’s legitimately uncomfortable to watch (usually, as mentioned, a mother, although it can also be a friend or even a tyrannical, bossy child who is in the weird position of approving an adult woman’s clothing). 

There are a number of spin-offs and brand extensions — there’s one called Say Yes To The Dress: Atlanta that’s more chill and stereotypically southern — it’s less speedy, less high-pressure, featuring brides who are notably younger on average but often seem a little less flashy about being probably equally rich. The trade-off on that one is that you do see a lot more clashes with conservative parents and grandparents who want the bride to be extremely covered up, and those are not always fun. People talk about cleavage on Say Yes To The Dress: Atlanta the way people talk about lions on Survivor: some are intrigued and eager for the experience, while others are frankly terrified.  

I think the people who made this show probably originally figured it would be wish fulfillment, and that people watching would be fantasizing about what kind of a dress they would wear. I have actually never really thought «I would wear that» or «I would love to wear that,» which is consistent with the fact that I’ve never, ever been a bridal dreamer. At this point I would be considered an old bride anyway; I certainly wouldn’t stuff myself into anything at Kleinfeld. They’re constantly telling these brides that the one thing people will remember about your wedding is your dress; I’m not sure I remember any of the dresses from weddings I’ve been to unless I regularly see them in pictures. I think the satisfaction of it is just the extraordinarily simple path from «needs a dress» to «likes a dress» to «buys a dress» that appeals, especially right now. (I’m sorry every thought I have ends with «especially right now,» but it’s just how it is. Especially right now.)

You can catch Say Yes To The Dress in endless TLC marathons, on demand on cable or on TLC.com with a cable subscription, and on a variety of streaming services, free or for purchase depending one what services you have.