Overheard in an East Side bridal salon:

"How do I tell her I don't want to give out Jordan almonds without sounding like Bridezilla?" The speaker was statuesque, and even in a place where "all brides are beautiful" exceptionally exquisite in her Anne Barge wedding dress.

Still, she was anxious unexpected in the "Breakfast at Tiffany's" atmosphere of this shop, where the biggest problem one might experience is indecision in the face of too many good, if expensive, choices.

Standing in the dressing room, clamped into a fabulous gown I couldn't afford, I cringed. I had never heard the word before, but it immediately grated on me.

"Bridezilla" is a special kind of insult too cute to mean anything serious, yet devastatingly demeaning. To call a woman "Bridezilla," even if her prima donna antics put Diana Ross to shame, categorizes her bad behavior as a comic "syndrome". Not wanting to press substandard candy tarted up with tulle on guests seemed reasonable, but calling herself Bridezilla was not. This bride-to-be perceived herself not as on the brink of becoming a married woman but on the verge of becoming a monster.

The term's origins are obvious, its image vivid: Bridezilla is gigantic, ugly, and capable of leveling Tokyo a compelling, if not attractive, talent.
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