In my 20s, I saw plenty of older friends and family members become inundated by the demands of so-called wedding season the very minute they cannonballed into their 30s, but I didn’t quite believe it would happen to me. Then I turned 30 myself, and suddenly I was up to my neck in carefully calligraphed invitations to weddings—and somewhat less formal invitations to bachelorette parties.
I’ve written about the joys of just saying no to inconvenient or overly expensive bachelorette parties before, and obviously shelling out hundreds (if not thousands!) of dollars for a mere pre-wedding ritual can be a tough sell in this economy in the first place. But I have to admit: When I saw how genuinely happy Selena Gomez looked at her yachtside bachelorette in Cabo San Lucas this past weekend, I felt like a stick in the mud. Hence, the genesis of my new rule: Bachelorette parties should be as close to free as possible…or extremely, unbelievably lavish. Nothing in between.
The most fun I’ve personally ever had at a bachelorette party was last spring, when my longtime bestie Eliza convened groups of childhood, college, and adult-life friends to camp out by a river in upstate New York for one single night. (The one-night stay is crucial here, folks; unless you’re a seasoned camper and hiker, nobody really wants to sleep outside for more than one night in a row.) We played cards, read our books, cooked food on a tiny stove, gossiped about the various people who had wronged us over the past two decades, played a prerecorded version of The Newlywed Game featuring questions about Eliza and her fiancé Zack’s relationship, delighted ourselves with mushrooms of the ever-so-slightly medicinal variety, and then treated ourselves to a giant breakfast at Phoenicia Diner the next morning for the grand total of about $30 per person.
Even though I ended up dragging myself out of my inadequate beach tent to sleep in the car that night, I had an incredible time, and, more importantly, so did the bride-to-be—possibly, in part, because she didn’t have to feel guilty about saddling each of her 15 or so guests with an exorbitant Venmo request. The woods—they’re famously free!
