Besides Janie’s father, “Mr. Formal” may be the only male who has any say in Kirista and Janie’s wedding.  Mr. Formal is Janie’s tux rental shop, sandwiched in a crowded shopping center between the ubiquitous Northwest coffee shop and a chain supermarket. The showroom seems undersized, with only ten tuxedoed mannequins. In the small waiting area, strangely formal for a shop in a strip mall, copies of Portland Bride magazine lay neatly arranged on a coffee table. The clerk at the shop is good at what he does. He answers the phone, helps the heterosexual couple browsing in the shop, and checks on orders like he owns the place. Positive and bubbly, he is in constant motion, a model of service and professionalism betrayed only by the beads of sweat forming on his brow. 

When Janie, Kirista, and their six-year-old ring bearer Aaron enter the shop for their final fitting, the clerk greets them at the door. Kirista gives him the names.  He doesn’t seem to realize that the two women are marrying each other. He brings out Aaron’s miniature suit first and displays it for Kirista’s inspection. Aaron is supposed to have a black tux with tails.  

“This doesn’t have tails, but do you know what? I’m not going to worry about it,”  Kirista says, almost to herself. 

The clerk hears her and looks at the order form. Apparently the person who wrote up the order made a mistake.  “You wanted tails?  We can have that for you tomorrow without a problem.”

Kirista’s face lights up.  “Oh!  That would be wonderful.” 

She coaxes Aaron into the dressing area to try on the new clothes.

The clerk steps into the back room to grab the other tuxedo. Because he doesn’t yet realize that the tux is for Janie, he uses the male pronoun to talk about the person to be fitted.  When Janie steps closer to look at the suit, the clerk suddenly figures it out.  You can see it on his face. He looks at the tag and then at Janie, not missing a beat, “You must be Janie.”

Janie nods her head. With the smoothness of a seasoned salesman, the clerk transfers his energy to her, pulling the all-white tuxedo out of the plastic garment bag and laying it out for her to try on. 

“These are exciting times,” he says to her with a smile.

“Oh yeah,” Janie answers.

A few minutes later, Janie emerges from the dressing room, squirming a bit from the stiffness of the pants and shirt. The clerk helps her on with her vest and jacket and puts the tie around her neck. He begins to stuff the tie down into her buttoned vest, but has second thoughts..

“Will you do that?” he asks Janie.

 “Yeah.”

“I don’t mind doing it for the guys, but not for the girls…”

Kirista comes out of the dressing area and sees Janie in full dress. “You look fantastic!” she says. It’s a rental, and it’s man’s suit, but Janie wears it well and with conviction.

Janie just smiles and turns to go back into the dressing room. As she walks away, Kirista comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her fiancée’s waist. She puts her head on Janie’s shoulder, and they disappear into the dressing area. The clerk doesn’t bat an eye.

Two days before Kirista and Janie’s wedding, Kirista and her mother have hair appointments at a Eugene salon. They’re paying for the whole package: cut and color, with the style to be done the morning of the wedding. Kirista’s mother goes first and about 30 minutes into her dye job, Kirista and Janie get antsy thinking of everything that still needs to be done. They decide to use the time to do some errands – namely making a coffee run – before their busy day gets started in earnest. The brides-to-be set out on foot, walking along gray downtown streets though the crisp winter air. 

The loan Kirista and Janie took out to pay for the wedding is all but spent. The more Kirista thinks about the expenses for the next few days, the more concerned she becomes.

“We should go to the bank,” she says to Janie as they walk down the street.

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t know if my mom is going to pay for my hair appointment today, so I need cash for that. We need some ‘just in case’ money too.”

The bank is seven blocks out of the way, and as they walk, they begin to bicker about how much money they should withdraw. They still need to buy some of the food for the wedding dinner, get the rest of the decorations, and pay for Janie’s tuxedo. 

As Kirista and Janie walk up the stairs to the door of the bank building, the question of “how much?” still lingers. The only answer for this couple — and the wedding industry, slowly realizing the enrichment of gay marriage — is “more and more and more.”

JES BURNS, a second-year student in the literary nonfiction program at the University of Oregon, also looks good in a tux.