The Bachlorette (Party)

I’m in the middle of planning another bachlorette party for Angelica, my girlfriend who is getting married this summer. Christie, myself and another friend, let’s call her ‘Holly’, had a successful impromptu bachlorette for Angelica this past summer, which involved endless drinks, food and adoration from a group of generous guys we picked up at a local night club in the heart of the downtown core. Following an adventure home which included piggy back rides through the valley of sketch, the memories (and pictures) live on in infamy as one of the most fun nights of the entire summer.

That evening we were celebrating a lot of things; first and foremost, Angelica’s impending nuptials. Second, the arrival of Angelica’s wedding tiaras of which we all wore to the bar. Third, Holly’s most unusual cameo. And fourth, we were celebrating the joie de vive that twenty-something girls have for a mid-summer Friday night out. We were celebrating a lot of things, and as we drank, dressed and took pictures that idea got me thinking about my own state of non-union. It’s not that I was upset or jealous; I don’t think I am the marrying, white picket fence and 2.5 kid kind of girl, but on a night historically spent celebrating the last hurrah of singledom, I couldn’t help but wonder why we tend to celebrate being single only when we know it is slipping away?

Now I don’t know about you, but a Stagette thrown by yours truly involves drinking, dancing, flirting, eating, and pictures, oh so many pictures. A typical girls night out with the exception of a gigantic rock on a girls finger that manages to get the attention of any and all available (and not so available) men currently at the bar. It’s a proven fact, at least among my circle of friends, that nothing attracts a group of men willing to buy you drinks like a woman they know they can’t possibly have. A stagette/bachlorette, whatever, is an evening with your closest girlfriends doing all the things you would do, or wanted to do, while you were single. So begs the question… if one has to wait until they are engaged to, well, engage in such free spirited acts of independence once dominant in a girl’s single life, why are such special nights regulated only for those who will lose it?

According to these types of parties, the single life is meant to be enjoyed. Sure at the end of the night (or the beginning of the morning) you may return to your bed alone, or find yourself walking the walk of game alone (with a stop at Second Cup for a vanilla bean latte) in last nights killer outfit and equally killing shoes, but they are all signs of a good single night out. Being single, unattached, whatever allows you the freedom to do such things, be wild and free, and to celebrate this just because you can. The party may ease up once you find yourself in a relationship but until you do, the joie de vive of the single life is there, just waiting for you to grasp it.

A co-worker and I once discussed at length the concept of a we’re all bachlorette party; where a bunch of girls, single or otherwise, would dress up with veils or tiaras, hit the bars for an epic night on the town with the goal of getting as many free drinks, kisses and phone numbers as humanly possible. Now why would an evening that fun, that fresh, that exciting and eventful be reserved only to brides? I mean, in the sense of singledom we are all potential bachlorettes, looking or otherwise, for our Mr. Right. I think that single gals should, nay MUST celebrate their single hood long before it’s traded in for a Vera Wang wedding dress and sky-high Manolo Blahnik wedding shoes. I mean, what’s really stopping us? In my opinion, when Mr. Right eventually comes along, I think he’d rest easier knowing that when our final bachlorette comes we’ve managed to enjoy our seriously-single time enough to let it fade as soon as we watch him get on one knee. That way, not only do we know what we are losing, the freedom and spontaneity of singledom, but we also know what we’re gaining… Someone to come home to.