Medical emergencies at events are never on my to-do list. In fact, I do not pray for them at all. But this happened.
It happened in front of a crowd of over four hundred people. It happened in front of camera phones and cameras rolling. And it happened because a young woman decided that her silhouette was more important than her blood sugar.
Let me narrate the experience.
I was hired to coordinate the wedding of Chinasa and Folarin. They were a couple goals type of couple. The budget was big — money needed to be spent and it was spent unapologetically. Six hundred guests. A six-tier cake that looked heavenly, made Victorian-style in a mansion shape with the couple as cake toppers. The saxophonist, Shay Vibes, played Wizkid's Essence and it was nostalgic in the best way.
The champagne towers were stacked high. The event staff came dressed like they were auditioning for Bridgerton. Small chops arrived on gold platters. The napkins were silk. Every detail screamed pure opulence and I was proud to be standing in the middle of it.
The bridesmaids danced in like runway models. Their makeup could survive the flood from Noah's Ark. Their Louboutin heels were the envy of the entire hall. Their corsets had snatched all their intestines because honestly, there was no way I could walk five feet in those outfits. They were on an assignment and they knew it.
In the middle of the reception, one of the girls — wearing a stunning burnt orange corset dress that could hide a lie meant for the grave — suddenly collapsed.
This girl did not come to play. She was beautiful, tall, with flawless skin and perfect white teeth. If she was single, she was either going home with a new boyfriend or some rich, old, married man would try to get her number. One minute she and the other bridesmaids were dancing to Davido's Unavailable. The next minute, she went offline. Literally.
I was talking to one of the event staff when I heard a loud thud, followed by gasps from the crowd.
She lay flat on the marble floor. Her body was stiff. Her lashes fluttered slowly — shoutout to Huda Beauty. Everyone and everything paused. It was like a movie buffering on dial-up internet. The MC froze mid-sentence. The groom's mother became hysterical. One aunty in D&G sunglasses began to panic.
"Somebody bring water," I said as I walked towards her.
The photographer approached with his camera. I gave him a scornful look and he disappeared quickly. Was he really trying to take a photo?
A guest who was a nurse stepped in. She opened her purse and pulled out a small bottle of liquid IV hydration — which is exactly the kind of thing a prepared woman carries. We loosened the corset, and the moment we did, the fluttering stopped and her eyes shot open. We helped her sit up and gave her water. She was able to stand with my help and that of one of the groomsmen.
The Red Flag I Saw Earlier
During makeup hour, she was quiet. She looked beautiful but tired. Her smile seemed forced and her eyes looked dull. I asked if she was okay. She said she was just a bit tired. I offered water, orange juice, toast, crackers. "No thank you," she said. "I don't want to be bloated in any of the photos. I'm aiming for a snatched look."
That was the moment I should have pushed harder. But she was an adult and I respected her answer. I should not have.
The bridesmaid collapsed due to low blood sugar. She was also highly stressed and dehydrated. During cocktail hour, she had been sipping champagne on an empty stomach. She decided to become a fashion martyr and her body refused to cooperate.
"Every damsel needs to understand that the goal is to attend the wedding. Not become the main event."
Your corset should not be holding you tighter than your destiny. You cannot be the finest girl in the room if you are unconscious. You want to show your ex that you are glowing after the breakup? Please do not die trying.
Lessons from the Floor
Bridesmaids: Eat well, hydrate, and stress less. The dress will look beautiful on a woman who is standing upright.
Wedding planners: Always have glucose, water, safety pins, and prayers. You never know when you will need all four at the same event.
Everyone: No dress is worth your life. The corsets are cute until you are laying horizontal on marble while four hundred people film you.
Planning a Nigerian wedding is not for the faint-hearted. Apparently, neither is attending one.
She recovered. She danced again before the night was over. The photos were beautiful. And somewhere in the album, there is a ten-second gap in the timeline that only the people who were there will ever understand.
— Lola · Red Lipstick Economics