Simple

This is the definition of "simple," according to the interwebs. But somewhere along the way, "simple" seems to have taken on a different "First World" sort of meaning, at least in the wedding industry, where it is now "simply" just code for "not gaudy and crass."

Over the past decade or so, I've heard many women (friends, family, and celebrities in Us Weekly) plan their weddings with the promise of simplicity: "I just want it to be simple," they'll say. "It's going to be SO simple. Like, you know. Just me, Kevin,* (*anonymous pseudonym) and 500 of our closest friends in a rustic barn in Western New York draped in wisteria; a five-piece bluegrass band; organic orchid centerpieces at every table; a signature cocktail; and a gluten-free acai berry cake with a free trade 98% cacao ganache. You know...SIMPLE." Simplicity of dress is also oft-announced, but 25 try-ons and fittings later, simplicity (at least as conventionally defined) is elusive.

Understand that the person making this observation chose to get married in her in-laws' living room on Long Island, with zero friends present, wearing an outfit that she now hesitates to call a dress and that her uncle said made her look like a prosecutor. A foot-long sub also might have arrived at one point, but she can't recall for sure.

I'm not claiming that this event was "simple" either, mind you. Because let's be honest: unless you're offering two goats for a dowry--and probably even then--the "simplest" thing anyone can do is "simply" not to get married at all.