Mother of the Bride Steals the Spotlight – And the Photographer Follows the Maid of Honor
The bride’s mom wore what was basically a wedding dress and insisted on walking her daughter up the aisle with her ex-husband. After the wedding, we found out that the photographer had become enamored with the maid of honor, and at least 50% of the pictures he took were of her. There were zero portraits of just the bride and groom.
The day was meant to be Emily’s. Instead, it became a three-ring circus of ego and obsession. Her mother, Diane, glided down the aisle in ivory silk that shimmered like a bridal gown, clutching Emily’s arm as if she were the one saying “I do.” Whispers rippled through the pews. Diane beamed; Emily’s smile froze.
Then came the photos—or lack thereof. The couple waited weeks for their album, only to open it and find a shrine to the maid of honor, Sarah. Close-ups of her laugh, her bouquet toss, her feet. Page after page of Sarah, while Emily and Mark appeared in exactly three group shots, half-hidden behind cousins.
The photographer later admitted, unapologetically, that Sarah’s “energy inspired him.” Emily’s mother, meanwhile, hung her “dress” in the living room like a trophy.
In the end, the couple eloped to city hall six months later—just them, a witness, and a phone camera. This time, *ily got all the pictures.
