City Mom Chicago: Brides, Not Bulls

This column was first published here on April 27, 2011.
Edited versions were subsequently published, with permission of the author,
in print and online editions of community newspapers across Chicago.

Well, another annual event has come and gone.

You may have heard of it. It involves a herd of frantic, wide-eyed mammals running down narrow passageways in a city. It is fast, furious and potentially dangerous.

No, I’m not referring to the annual running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain.

I’m talking about the annual Running of the Brides event at the Filene’s Basement store on State Street.

You have doubtless seen this on TV newscasts over the years. This is the annual event where brides-to-be and their bridesmaids (and other family and friends) line up many hours in advance, outside, for a chance to burst into the store and snare a wedding dress at a discounted price.

Filene’s, founded in Boston in 1909, has been doing this sort of thing since 1947, according to the company website. It grew over the years; and to give you a sense of just how frenzied this spectacle is, in 1992 the annual sale saw frantic women clear hundreds of bridal gowns off the racks in just 37 seconds.

Filene’s is so proud of the way it encourages its customers to act, it has changed the name of the event from the annu

al Basement Bridal Gown Sale to the Running of the Brides. In fact, they even registered the event’s name as a trademark. So make that Running of the Brides®.

I may be in the minority here, but I find the event undignified at best and degrading at worst.

And I say that even though I know what it is to purchase a wedding dress at an incredibly low price. (Mine just about fell in my lap, though. I was working at Evergreen Plaza at the time and got a tip from a fashion adviser friend that a major clothier in the mall was suddenly liquidating stock. I walked over to the store, found a beautiful dress and veil, and the rest was history.)

A search for the perfect wedding gown should not involve running, sweating, jostling, hollering or screaming.

The search for a gown should reflect the fact that a princess is becoming a queen. The bride-to-be should be pampered and treated with deference at every turn. A wedding day and everything that goes with it belongs to the bride. It is her day----and so should the weeks and months leading up to it.

I’d like to see a major clothier do the opposite of what Filene’s does. Pick up the bride and her bridesmaids in a limousine. Serve them champagne and gourmet hors d’ouevres. Make it like a day at the spa.

Is that too much to ask for a (hopefully) once in a lifetime event?

I don’t think so. What about you?

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If you read my “People’s Republic of Christmas” column last December, you know I strongly support using the power of our pocketbooks to help keep our jobs here in the U.S.

So here is a “Made in USA alert”: The other day I purchased a bottle of apple juice. Minute Maid. An American brand you can trust, right? No. At least, not if you’re looking for American-grown apples. According to the label, Minute Maid uses apples grown in China, Argentina, Chile, Germany, Austria, Turkey---and oh yes, the U.S.

While I have nothing at all against growers in other countries---I wish them well---I prefer to keep my money here at home, supporting apple growers in Michigan and other U.S. states. So I’ll be looking for all-American apple juice brands like

Indian Summer,