When you first meet Bridezilla Willaura, you instantly wish you hadn’t. She thinks she the “hottest socialite in Atlanta.” I pray, for the sake of the men in Atlanta, that she isn’t right. Because that’d be the ugliest place on earth.
Imagine if Diana Ross weighed 50 pounds less than she did in the coke era. That’s what we’re looking at with Willaura.
She explains that she used to be a teacher, until the kids started saying she was bipolar. File that one away. Reckon it’s a signpost of behavior to come.
She holds court about how she bosses her manmaid Marques around. Specifically, how people oughta call him Mr. Willaura. Which would be an honor.
Beanpole says she doesn’t like making decisions when she’s hungry, lonely, angry or tired. She also says this is a “celebrity wedding.” The caterer gets a real kick out of that nonsense. The caterer also gets a kick out of Willaura demanding that he cut her chicken for her, and to say “your dinner is served.” She says he should be honored by her mere presence.
Anyway, she refers to her friends as “assistants,” at least the one that she made come over to help alter her wedding dress. Nyeshia, the friend, doesn’t quite understand why she’d spend thousands upon thousands on a dress only to hack it up. But whatever. Also, Willaura refers to a tailor as an “alterator.” Those Mensa walls are gonna crumble down with this level of intellipower.
Bridezilla Willaura
Of course she screws up the dress. I shouldn’t even have had to tell you that. But, it wasn’t her fault. They didn’t make the dress right, apparently. She starts crying to the point when there’s a worry that her misaltered wedding dress will get mascara stained.
Her tantrum speaks to a preschool sensibility. Her necklace reads “Bride.” Her relationship with her father speaks to issuing demands for more money that he should hand over on command because everything is about her so shut the hell up about being hungry, dad; we’ll order when I get more money out of you.
Willaura’s final offer: If you don’t give me more money, you will not walk me down the aisle.
Wow.
Willaura’s daddy is right: He SHOULD have had a son instead of this unappreciative babybeast who starts yelling and screaming at him at a public eatery.
Waterworks continue when she explains why she says she doesn’t want to go to the bachelorette party because nobody knows what she’s going through. Things are just so hectic and stressful and who has time to go out drinking and dancing, even when they’re the hottest socialite in Atlanta.
Resistance was temporary. She’s slugging booze out a thermos-lid-looking jawn and goblet. Her segment ends with some beef with the sister that involves others’ breaking them up.
Not sold on her being worthy of the final Bridezillas episode ever, but we’ll see next week.
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Bridezilla Adrianne is back for round two. This week, she doesn’t want to get married to Waylon.
Anyway, Adrianne says she thought Waylon was stalking her in college, to which Waylon retorts that “we Indians like to stalk her prey.”
I dig this Waylon cat bigtime.
Anyway, she seems to have a hatecrush on Waylon’s brother Juwan, who Bridezillanarrator repeatedly indicates is an attractive fellow.
She is decrying the pressures that the world puts on brides. It is a decent argument, in fact:
“I’m sick everyday. I’m tired because of all the pressure society puts on us to be this perfect bride, everything has to be perfect. This creation …” she says, waving hands in circles indicating her totality, her essence, “is, I’m a product of society. So, if I act crazy, it’s YOUR fault.”
When she says that Waylon has the mentality of an 8th grader, he corrects her to say 9th grader.
Anyway, she’s outgrown her dress “from eating like crazy and I can’t stop.” She requests bridesmaids help her with her “fat.” This is what Adrianne missed when she requested someone take a picture of her back fat:
“I actually don’t like being the center of attention. It weirds me out,” she explains, before being grossed out by said back fat. “How’m’I’gonna get married? My belly button looks like a donut hole. What if I can’t wear my girdle? This is not funny!!! How am I supposed to feel like a beautiful bride if everything’s just falling out everywhere?”
This reaction warrants compassion, not mockery. The bridesmaids laughing at her stands as concern that the war on women is being waged from within the gender. Ladies, stop tearing one another down, yo. United, you stand.
Issues between Adrianne and Juwan warrant a walk-off from the crowd moment. Juwan apologizes for being standoffish. Then, when she walks away, he’s all like good luck, bro, you’re in for a long haul.
Wedding day arrives for the first-ever Native-American Bridezilla: She’s committed to squeezing into her dress and does so somewhat. The forehead curling-iron burn mark is also of concern. (“I can feel it turning purple!!!”)
“Do I look scary? Do I look like I’m going to the graveyard?” she asks as she prepares to walk down the aisle. “I feel like I’m dead. Like I’m in a casket. Crap.”
Aw. Tears flow when Waylon reads his vows. Two become one. C’est Magnifique!
Oh, Waylon and Juwan do some bump and grinding at the reception. So, there’s that.
RELATED ISSUES:
Next week’s is the final episode of Bridezillas. So, WeTV is conducting a “Worst Bridezillas Ever” poll: Vote here.
They also offered up a Season 10 Freakout Frenzy: