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Sometimes I do work for free. Does that make me a hypocrite?

Back in a previous lifetime when I worked on a student newspaper in the Canadian capital, I received a double award at the end of my year abroad: the International Correspondent Of The Year / What’s In It For Me? Award.

Apparently, in addition to my hard-nosed journalism covering the Zapatista movement in Mexico, I’d accidentally earned a reputation for only offering to review the movies and music we were sent if it was a DVD or CD I already knew I wanted (Robbie Williams’ North American debut album was a highlight).

No-one working for The Charlatan was getting paid, other than in honed journalistic skills and CV fillers. I’ve also worked for no pay on my student paper in the UK, my local newspaper in Bedford and the Evening Standard I’m London.

In this incarnation, as a weddingwear designer and dressmaker, I’ve also worked for no money. Here are some examples:

  • I made three wedding dresses for brides working in the NHS who had had to postpone their weddings because of Covid-19 lockdown. I had already decided to use the cancelled wedding season to make some sample dresses, then realised the time and fabrics would be better used for actual brides rather than my cupboard;
  • Rock n Roll Bride magazine asked me to make the Geri Halliwell inspired Union Jack cape (worn as a veil) for its ’90s icons shoot in return for a free place in the shoot (otherwise £250) plus social media inclusion and return of the cape which I wore to my child’s school Coronation party;
  • Surprise additions for customers. Sometimes I add something blue, sometimes I include a gift or embroider their cat on their dress lining;
  • I did bridesmaid dress alterations because the bridesmaid suffered from the same condition I did 30-odd years ago and I finally had the chance to pay forward the kindness shown to me then. This was a spontaneous decision when she came to collect it;
  • Any time I’ve lent something I’ve made for a TFP (trade for print) photoshoot. No-one involved in these is paid.

In all of these cases, as altruistic as I might like to think I am, there has always been something in it for me. They might not pay the mortgage, but exposure and warm fuzzy feelings do count for something.

I’ve also made costumes for Star Wars (the Andor series) at minium wage to help out a friend and because STAR WARS!

Value

The crux of what I decide to do for no pay boils down to this: whether my work is being undervalued and/or the person I’m doing it for is exercising an inflated sense of entitlement.

This week’s risible request to “create synergy” with Miss Europe Continental for Amazon Prime galvanised my thoughts. In case you missed it, the “synergy” would have seen me design and create two gowns for a contestant at my own expense and for no pay AND I would have had to pay the organisers €1,980 for the privilege of my involvement. Never mind that the project manager requesting this hadn’t noticed that I only do bridalwear.

Other requests I’ve turned down include:

  • A discount because the couple had already overspent on other wedding supplies (like it would make me feel better to know that everyone else involved in the wedding got paid their dues, just not me);
  • A discount on alterations because they were going to cost more than half the purchase price of the dress (never mind that the dress in question was an absolute steal);
  • Let’s not forget the troll who was very cross my moon veils were out of her budget.

Finally, one I did agree to a discount for but only because she caught me off-guard, very early in my career. About an hour after her fitting, she called me and asked to cut her bill by nearly 30%.

Her hen-do dress that she’d also asked me to alter was dropped off to me unwashed and with sweat stains and crusted deodorant under the arms – where I was to take it in – and fake tan covering much of the rest. She spent her next fitting on the phone to a friend, boasting about how cheaply she wangled her latest wedding supplies and how much discount she’d got from someone else.

She doesn’t know I keep a list of customers I will never work with again but it makes me feel a bit better that I do. She’s the only person on it.

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Bridebook in hot water

A marriage based on a lie is not likely to end well, so it’s startling to see a purported wedding expert recommending starting a relationship with a lie. OK, not quite a relationship with someone you’re marrying, but Bridebook has just been caught advising couples to approach wedding suppliers by saying they’re having a party, not a wedding.

Screenshot of Bridebook’s advice to engaged couples

Lie to your suppliers? Where’s that going to get you? There’s a reason wedding-related services often cost more: they ARE more. You GET more.

What’s especially galling for vendors – on whom Bridebook relies to fill its own coffers – is that it’s annual wedding report published in the last few weeks extolls the importance of trust, connection and price transparency.

Bridebook’s ‘This you?’ moment

In my case as a bridalwear designer and dressmaker, the very fact that that is all I do tells you everything you need to know about how specialised it is. So actually, if you come to me for asking for a party dress, I’m not your woman and the answer will be no. Tell me then it’s actually a wedding dress you want and you just didn’t trust me to price it fairly, and how keen do you expect me to be to work with you?

Bridebook also seems to forget that vendors have often planned their own weddings at some point too. I swore when I started my business that I would never charge extra for my services just because the dress was white. But I will charge accordingly for additional structure, delicate fabrics, intricate embroidery and beaded details, all the additional layers and the complexity of the design. Because all that is more work and takes more time. Beautiful, enjoyable time in which I’m in my element but I can’t do it for nothing.

Keep asking my husband though, because his business is going well and apparently this time next year, we’ll be millionaires.

This time next year, Rodney

Although he has been saying that for nearly four years now. Oh shit, was that a lie?

Special thanks to Plaits & Pin Curls, Bex Brides, Magpie Wedding and Rock n Roll Bride for bringing this to my attention and for all you do to actually support our wedding world.

Update: Bridebook has apparently now removed the article from its website.

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Am I right to be angry?

Genuine question.

Here’s another: is this even appropriate?

I’ve just come out of a wedding dress fitting with a bride who loved her dress bit now wants me to restyle the neckline of her dress because the priest (Catholic, if it’s relevant) conducting her church ceremony asked her:

Not my actual bride in question, just another badass.

“How revealing is your dress?”

Consequently, she has gone from loving her dress and feeling confident with the V-neck illusion panel (ie skin-toned translucent tulle) to being paranoid and wanting to add approx 4″ of lace to conceal her cleavage.

I’m not religious so wanted to get perspective(s) on whether I’m right to be feeling angry on her behalf. I feel the priest is policing her body, was sexist to ask her this (he didn’t ask the groom) and what she chooses to show of her own body at her own wedding is no concern of anyone else.

If it even makes a modicum of difference to the priest, should he even be a bloody priest? If he’s worried about what other people think, that’s irrelevant. If he’s worried about being distracted himself, or having “impure” thoughts provoked, that’s a him problem, not a neckline issue.

If he’s concerned about some epidermis causing a distraction, I’ve offered to dance at the back in a bikini.

I realise this is technically none of my business either but I’m feeling invested now after seeing the effect his probing has had on the bride.

So, is my rage justified?