Eva Amurri had her hen night in Vegas over the weekend. Could she have made a better choice?
Back in the day when I was a wee and innocent little lamb, I – along with my friends Saryn and Cristina – threw an impromptu bachelorette party for our friend Mary. She gamely played along though we were fairly green in the ‘I’m about to say I do’ department; at 27 I had, quite sadly, ever only been to two weddings. Anyhoo, Mary very gamely wore a penis tiara and asked men offensive questions. I don’t really remember that rest, and there’s probably a reason for that.
Years later (the summer of 2010, in fact) it was Saryn’s turn to tie the knot. I threw her last minute shindig atop of the Hotel Erwin in Venice. It was a bunch of mostly-married women who had to run home to their hubbys — added to the fact that her real bash had been a crazy, all-girls weekend in New Orleans — meaning: no penis paraphernalia was involved. Instead, we had tasty cocktails and a mature, adult time. Trust me, I wanted to watch the bride-to-be say inappropriate things to random men too, but I was catering to a certain crowd. No shenanigans ensued.
The ‘bachelorette’ by definition is the female version of a bachelor party. A bachelor party back in the day was meant to be an intimate dinner thrown by the groom’s best friends. It was not meant to be the stripper and last-fuck-before-marriage fest it has become today.
That said, I think most bachelorette parties are impossibly boring. Eva Amurri, Susan Sarandon‘s daughter, had hers in Las Vegas over the weekend, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I would have done differently. She started off with a dinner at LAVO inside The Palazzo before heading over to TAO for some dancing. She brought her female friends and a few token gays. She had — natch — a VIP table. The Californication star kitted herself out in an expensive Herve Leger dress and carried a Swarovski purse. Yes, she wore a boa. No, it did not have little pink members on it. Sigh.
Did she do it up right? I don’t know what girlfriend got into after her night of premarital fun, but let me break down for you what she could have done differently. Trust me, I’ve learned my lessons from experience.
DO have your last day standing away from home in a crazy party town like Vegas, Miami, New Orleans or Cabo San Lucas. I’m a big fan of Saryn’s choice: NOLA is less sleazy, more mysterious and chock-full of cute Southern accents.
DO invite your favorite gay men. My gay male friends are the most inappropriate people on the face of the planet, and I love them for it. I would willingly do anything they asked me (aside from the one big no-no we all know, that is) if I were the bride in question.
DON’T wear anything you’re going to regret ruining or carry anything you might lose. You’re going to be a train wreck. I highly advise leaving your engagement ring at home. Losing your rock isn’t the best way to start off a marriage.
DON’T go overboard with the penis gear. As much as I think it’s hilarious, it’s actually really obnoxious. You want to be a fun bachelorette, not a cheesy one.
DON’T wear an ‘I”m the bride-to-be’ T-shirt. The friend that makes you wear such a hideous garment is not a very good friend at all.
DON’T get so hammered before you go out that you don’t remember your night. That’ s going to be hazy anyway. You might as well look good in some of the pictures, because you know that shit is going to end up on Facebook anyway.
DO pull an Amurri and go somewhere you can dance. She inconveniently went the same night TAO was celebrating its 1000th night which means it was busy as hell. However, she did have a VIP table, which is a necessity at any kind of Vegas/Miami nightclub. And she did have David Guetta in the house. On that note, DG, can you please DJ my bachelorette party? I’ll still love you even when I’m 40 (that’s when I’m getting married, FYI).
DO something fun like Eva did and go to a fortune teller, psychic or palm reader. Just saying though, she better be telling you something good or her ass isn’t getting paid. Don’t upset the bride, beyotch!
That said, my best friend Katie’s bachelorette is in Atlantic City next summer. You know what that means, right? Yep. I have a bad feeling there will be fist pumps, bouffant hairdos, a plethora of Snooki references and lots of creeping going on. There will be NO SMUSHING. Capisce?