A Ruffled White Veil

Romance at the Palace of Fine ArtsEn route to the Valley of Fire

The breeze carries me across the stone path, whisking me along its winding curves. From the corner of my eye, I see a nervous man in a black suit pacing back and forth on the lush, green grass, setting up an eloquent bouquet of roses on a tree stump. He angles it to embrace the looming Palace of Fine Arts in the backdrop. My friends and I hover around the corner, whispering: Oh my god, what did we walk into?

The woman is finally in view, wearing a gorgeous wine red dress and clasping her hands over her mouth in excitement while striding to her man. We all collectively gasp, as the man gets down on one knee and looks up earnestly at the woman, popping the question that random onlookers and family members have all been waiting for in anticipation. She enthusiastically says Yes! and everyone around them claps, us (following suit) as well.

We hear another oohs and aahs a few paces away, and we whip our heads around to see yet another couple seal the deal, the groom offering up a shiny diamond ring for his future brideto-be. Coincidentally enough, there has to be at least six different proposals all happening a couple of meters away from another and within the hour. Even under the grand arch of the palace, there is a wedding in progress, white foldable chairs lined up in neat rows and filled with an assortment of people in their fancy dresses and posh suits.

For a couple of college students, witnessing these proposals feels surreal. The couples are in their early 20’s at least, and we are not too far away from thinking about marriage. Pretty soon, we will also be expected to plan our whole life and lay down milestones into adulthood, from the trail of roses leading up to the tree stump to the rows of chairs underneath the looming arch. I anxiously wonder what my own color scheme will look as I take in the amount of floral headpieces. As we walk along the path by the mini lagoon, we shuffle our feet, shaking our heads in disbelief at the sheer amount of proposals and weddings all within the Palace at the same time.

One may call a trail of these weddings and proposals all at the same venue tacky, comparable to getting hitched in Vegas. I roll my eyes, immediately about to snap a remark about how original the couple getting engaged were out of the multiple couples there, until I hear a commotion of cheers. I whip toward the sound, and I see an engaging scene:

A groom and bride, just newly tying the knot, foreheads brushing, smiles sweetly adorning their lips. Just as they are about to whisper endearing words, they are swept away once again into the crowd of their families, mingling among their people, anxious looks painting their faces as they stumble along to the cars for the reception. The bride is tripping over her gown and the wedding party scrambles to figure out car arrangements, cleaning up the chairs underneath the beautiful dome of the Palace. One of the bridesmaids shouts, “You need to touch up your makeup; it’s running!”

I smile in spite of myself. Maybe it’s the college pessimist in me, but seeing a picture perfect wedding has some kind of a rushed and frantic element to it, reminding me that I will always feel a little like my anxious self.

So I step back and admire the situation in front of me: cameras flashing, mothers and aunts tittering, swishes and sways of guests’ satin gowns. I ponder my own future and what level of anxiety I will have when my day comes.

The bridal veil is looking a bit crooked now; I like it.

Words: Catherine Chu

Photos: Alisa Karesh