Well, I don't make a very good b*tch.
I have always liked the idea of having a significant celebration, although I don't believe that means you have to spend vast amounts, and I don't believe it means you have to copy the 'done thing' that everyone else is doing at their weddings. And while I dress very casual and don't take much interest in looks 99% of the time, I adore big foofy floaty frocks. I'd love to have more excuses to wear one in a situation that wasn't jam-packed with boring people and expectations of social etiquette.
That all said...
My mother was a narcissist, and for narcissists it's all about THEM. She had to have a very simple wedding, because her dad didn't believe in forking out for weddings, and she was adamant that I wasn't going to have anything she never got. So that meant that for my first marriage, most of my choices got scuppered somehow or other - with the sole exception of the dress, which she was disgusted with but couldn't bully me into ditching because I'd paid for it myself. But she bullied me about everything else. I wanted 'modest sized and whatever we can afford'; she wanted 'as small and cheap as possible'; oddly, it ended up bigger than I'd envisaged, but cheap and tacky looking. I was such a bag of nerves trying to fix things, I lost about twenty pounds in a few weeks. I don't recommend it. I didn't have the confidence back then to argue with her.
Needless to say, I kept her well away from my second marriage plans. It helped that she had a blazing row with me on the phone the moment I said that we were thinking of having an 'alternative' ceremony. (To do this in the UK, you have to do the legal part first, and separately, if you want any spiritual content. Which we did.) She was You Do Things The Way I Did Or You Do Not Do Them At All. So I was just like...OK, you're going to cause trouble, I will not involve you. She b*tched on the day, sure (we had to seat her next to the minister, a lovely Unitarian guy who really didn't deserve her but who managed, I think, to stop her misbehaving too much), and I strongly suspect she told a lot of the family 'It's not a real wedding so don't bother coming'...but basically everything went a lot calmer.
So in answer to your question, I don't think I was much of a Bridezilla, but I experienced the wrath of MomofbrideZilla, and ask our best man...that can be a far scarier creature.
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"Grunge? Isn't that some gross shade of greenish orange?"