Walking down the aisle… of trade-show booths

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 23/01/2018 (3139 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, I became an engaged person.

It was a very relaxed scenario — a breakfast in bed that ended up with a ring deftly put inside of a Kinder egg, my favourite of all chocolatey treats — and it was exactly what I wanted. Just the two of us, no public displays of affection, no one taking pictures or filming it to show the family later.

 

Given my proposal preferences, it should come as no surprise that being a bride — a word I still feel strange using — and all the attention that goes with it is not my forte. But we have started the planning process, so it felt like a natural decision to venture into the Wonderful Wedding Show this past weekend at the RBC Convention Centre.

Knowing full well this could quite possibly turn into a nightmare scenario for someone who is not a fan of crowds or on-the-spot questioning from strangers, I reached out to Sherri Rheubottom, who has been producing the wedding show for more than 20 years, for some guidance.

She had some great suggestions, such as wearing supportive footwear, and also advised pre-planning which vendors you want to see in order to have a successful wedding show experience.

I did not pre-plan, fearing that would make my experience too regimented, and immediately regretted that decision the moment I, along with my mom, walked into the 136,000-square-foot room with more than 300 booths armed only with a pen, paper, a copy of V.I.B. magazine and a weakening sense of optimism.

Actually, I did have one other thing with me — a set of labels with all of my contact information printed on them. This was a tip passed along to me by a friend, who explained having labels means you can avoid filling out all the contest ballots by hand. This was a very good tip.

We arrived for the early entrance time of 10 a.m., available to those who signed up to be a V.I.B. — very important bride, if you’re not up on your wedding-industry abbreviations — and the crowd at that time was surprisingly manageable.

Within 20 minutes, the clammy-handed panic had started to set in as we wandered down the first aisle, seeing so much but absorbing little. No matter how thoroughly you prepare, it’s hard to imagine this situation not being overwhelming.

So, at 10:30 a.m., when we were offered our first alcoholic sample of the day, we took it. While I don’t often partake in a mid-morning Bellini-flavoured Jell-O shot, if there was ever a scenario in which this would be acceptable, surely the wedding show is it. We also tried a vanilla-tequila pudding that was infinitely tastier than it sounds.

Feeling a bit more relaxed, we sauntered over to the next booth, which was full of whisky samples.

Feeling a lot more relaxed, we discovered the Winnipeg Trolley parked off to the side of the room, which seemed like a good place to hide out as the clock had just hit 11 a.m.; the main doors were now open, and the space began to fill up fast. Oddly, the music of Blind Melon was soundtracking this particular moment, preceded by Pump Up The Jam — an unexpected mélange of tunes, but I wasn’t hating it.

From the window of the trolley, I spotted a crowd of people huddled around a bakery booth and assumed there’d be cake samples, so we made our way over. There was no cake. We moved on.

It was at around this time Free Press photographer Trevor Hagan convinced me to stick my hand in what was essentially a giant sparkler. The machine was called a Sparkular, and its owner, Barry Kay of Cherry Tree Productions, assured me I would not burn my hand off. Kay was correct in large part, though I wouldn’t suggest others to follow my peer-pressure-induced lead.

I had heard many times about the greatness of the lounges for brides and grooms, so that was our next stop. It wasn’t long before we had yet another alcohol sample in hand and were ogling the over-the-budget dresses that were strategically placed throughout the tented space. I will say the grooms lounge looked like a lot more fun — it had a pinball machine! — but this was no time for games; our tummies were rumbly and needed some real food.

I didn’t eat breakfast, as I incorrectly assumed there would be tons of tidbits to nibble on as we walked — pastel-coloured macarons and Jordan almonds out the wazoo, I thought. That was a mistake. By the time noon rolled around, we needed sustenance beyond alcohol to get us through the day, so we took a minute to regroup and scarf down a hotdog before finding a spot to sit for the 12:30 p.m. fashion show.

The fashion show was exactly as you would assume it to be. Dresses! Suits! Children in dresses and suits! Instrumental music!

 

Thanks to my mom, who is a directional genius, we managed to find our way out without much struggle, getting held up only once when I saw a dog and obviously needed to stop and pet her. She was in the City of Winnipeg Animal Services booth, and I fell in love with her.

The man minding the booth tried to convince me that, instead of bouquets, some brides have their bridesmaids carry puppies. He also had some less weird suggestions of ways to include animals and animal adoption in my wedding. At this point, I knew it was time to go home.

All in all, for me, the Wonderful Wedding Show was a worthwhile experience. It wasn’t nearly as oppressively feminine as I expected; no one tried to convince me I needed X or Y, or upsell my original plans to make my wedding perfect and there were few aggressive/pushy vendors. Everyone mostly just wanted to tell me what they can do, hand me a pamphlet and send me on my way, which, in my mind, is the ideal interaction. No fuss, no muss.

It’s a great place to go for inspiration, but, unless you already have your heart set on a certain vendor and are hoping for a wedding show deal, the pace and vibe of the event isn’t super-conducive to making important final decisions. I fully intend to double-back to a few people I spoke to, but it was just too much information to process on the spot.

Will I be back next year? Probably not. But that’s mostly because our planning should, with any luck, be done by then.

Now, where did I put that phone number for the puppy bouquets?

erin.lebar@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @NireRabel