The traditional time to object to a wedding is mid-ceremony. “If anyone has a reason why these two should not be married,” the priest will say, “speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
In the modern world, objecting to weddings is a little easier – if no less dramatic. On the “That’s it, I’m wedding shaming” Facebook group, you can join 34,000 other people in ripping apart the happiest day of somebody’s life. You can critique dresses, decorations and dramatic brides. You can categorise your post with some of the page’s most popular tags, such as “cringe”, “tacky family” and “fucking yikes”.
“There’s something about weddings, whether you’re invited or not, that just brings out the worst in people,” says Luna, a 23-year-old trans Australian who has been moderating the page for six months, alongside nine other mods. The group has faced criticism for being cruel, but Luna is quick to defend it, characterising the group as the Facebook equivalent of watching reality TV. “If it isn’t shameful, we won’t shame,” Luna says. “Camo wedding dresses with hunting rifles on the cake are not tasteful in any capacity, and we will shame them to the death.”
At first glance, it does seem a little mean. Who are we to judge a candyfloss-blue dress, a groom in sweatpants, or a mass Lightsaber battle instead of a first dance? But once you’re a member (to join the group, you have to answer three questions about your intentions, which the moderators will then scrutinise to make sure you’re not a troll) you’ll see that the page is also a safe, friendly place for frustrated wedding guests to blow off steam. There’s the woman whose maid of honour speech was plagiarised; the best friend who was expected to do the entire bridal party’s make-up; the venue that presumptively cut the wedding cake on behalf of the couple.
“I honestly don’t care what anyone else thinks about our group,” says Jacinta, a 23-year-old from Australia who has been moderating the page for nearly half a year. “It’s a place where people can vent about their wild wedding experiences.”
A few months ago, however, things changed somewhat. In August, model and social media celebrity Chrissy Teigen tweeted a post from the page in which members shamed a bride who had requested $1,500 from each of her guests to contribute to the wedding. It went viral. “I was not prepared for thousands of people asking to join the group every hour,” says Devin, a 44-year-old grandmother from South Carolina who spends between five and six hours every day moderating. “I was trying to enjoy a day on the lake with my husband, in our new boat, but instead I was putting out fires of arguments in the group.”
Jacinta says that after the page went viral, the tone changed. “Its original intent was complaining about the peculiar and ridiculous things we’ve experienced or been requested to do for someone’s wedding,” she says. “But after the viral post we get less and less people posting personal stories and more posts about tacky or ugly themes and dresses.”
Jacinta thinks this is because people no longer feel safe sharing personal stories if they could end up being tweeted out by celebrities. To help prevent this, rule number eight (of ten) on the page is “no taking screenshots” – the person who originally tweeted the screenshot Teigen shared was banned from the group. “We want our members to be able to have a safe space to vent about their crazy aunt Barbara,” Devin says.
It seems paradoxical that a place specifically designed for people to be mean has rules to protect people’s feelings. Where do you draw the line? Surely the act of shaming is somewhat lawless? “The most important rule is WEDDING SHAMING,” emphasises Devin. “Not body shaming, not lifestyle shaming, not sexuality shaming, not skin colour shaming, not pronoun shaming. Wedding shaming.” Rule number five – “Don’t be a dick” – bans racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia and transphobia on the page. Each is punished with an immediate ban.
Other rules are designed to protect the shamed. None of the shamed should be identified – in pictures, faces are often covered with emojis, while names are scribbled out in text posts. Contacting the shamed in real life, or doxxing them, also results in an immediate ban. Devin adds that if anyone who has been shamed reaches out and asks the moderators to delete the post, they will. “We aren’t completely heartless.”
The other rules are standard fare, though rule six – perhaps the least contentious but the most surprising – bans any form of “praising”. The admins have a sister group, “That’s it, I’m wedding praising”, for anyone who’s feeling positive. (It’s a fifth of the size, with just under 6,000 members.)
Read more: Mumsnet moderators are struggling to find the line between free speech and transphobia
No one is immune from the group’s rules – not even the original creator of the group, who left the group in disgrace after leaking information and screenshots. While writing this story, another moderator was kicked out from the mods’ group because of enigmatic-sounding “personal drama”.
It wouldn’t be a Facebook group without a certain level of meta-drama, and other former members have responded poorly to being kicked from the group. After being banned for harassing someone who was criticising religion, one member created their own Facebook group – “That’s it, I’m wedding shaming (non ban-happy edition)” – which has nearly double the original group’s members at 63,000. Many of the rules are copied from the original page, though a key difference is that they explicitly state no one’s religious beliefs should be shamed. The rules also declare: “PLEASE don’t join the group if you are easily offended!”
The original group’s moderators criticise this new group for being lawless, and mock the page for selling merchandise. Since then, yet another group – “That’s it, I'm wedding shaming (non ban-happy edition) w/ better mods” – has also been created. “The mods here are going to admit when they make a bad judgement call,” the rules for this third group state. “Our goal is to not be the kind of mods that turn the group into a blazing dumpster fire like that other wedding shaming group.”
It might all sound dramatic, but the original group’s moderators feel they have forged a strong community – and insist that drama can lead to teachable moments. Recently, the mods approved a post by a young man who was criticising a wedding which featured a ceremonial Māori haka dance. “We approved it for 30 minutes just to let people have at him,” says a 25-year-old moderator from Kansas who identifies herself with the pseudonym Katy. “Everyone came together and said ‘No, this is awesome, you’re wrong’ and the guy came back to the post and said ‘Hey, I didn’t know, thank you for educating me.’ That was really cool.”
Katy says the post got over 1,000 comments in half an hour, and it provided a good opportunity to “weed out racist people and people who are messed up.” Jacinta is also proud of this moderating decision – afterwards, she received a message from a Māori woman who thanked the mods for speaking up for her culture.
The occasional “thank you” is what motivates the moderators, who are unpaid and spend hours every day keeping the peace. Jacinta says she has argued with her fiancé because she spends too much time cleaning up posts. Devin says the occasional “thank you” messages make it worth it, and that she “adores” the members.
“It’s a labour of love but I truly love the group,” she says. She and her fellow mods have now also forged firm friendships. “We are all still working daily to keep the group going forward and providing a landing place for all ‘$1500 brides’ out there to be shamed for their horrid behaviour and entitlement, and bad bridesmaid dress choices,” she says. “Heaven help you if your groom’s cake looks like a confederate flag – we will drag you to hell.”
The Moderators is a new, semi-regular series in which we speak to the gatekeepers of different online communities to find out how they approach being the arbiter of what is and isn't allowed on the internet. Read how the moderators of Mumsnet struggle to find the line between free speech and transphobia.
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
