My fiancé is a ‘Bridezilla.’

Sorry sweetie, but you are — and I mean it in the most loving way possible.

For those of who may have missed previous mentions, I am getting married this summer to my longtime sweetheart, Amanda.

Planning the big day has been quite an adventure and the closer we get, the more I to discover about my little bride-to-be.

Shortly after the proposal, I came to realize that Amanda had been quietly planning her wedding day since she was about 10 years old. Since then, she has been keeping a mental database of colours, decor, dresses, food, flowers, etc. It’s actually quite amazing.

All we have to do now is put her perfect plan into action — and find a way to pay for it.

Last weekend, I begrudgingly accompanied Amanda to the With This Ring bridal gala at Westerner Park, and the whole experience was a little overwhelming for a guy who once suggested his fiancé buy her dress at a used clothing store.

Oops.

I was in over my head from the instant we walked through the door. For a moment, I stood looking nervously in all directions like a cat that had just been thrown into a kennel full of rottweillers.

I turned to see Amanda happily slapping a “Bride” label on her coat, which to me seemed like the equivalent of a big flashing ‘Sell me stuff!’ sign.

As we made our way through the kiosks and displays, vendors’ eyes would light up as they zeroed in on her “Bride” label. One after another, they would engage Amanda in a cheery conversation about cupcakes, candy, tuxedos, dinnerware, photography, jewelry, flowers, ice sculptures and some sadistic sounding program called Bikini Boot Camp.

I was somewhat amused to see several fellow future grooms trudging three steps behind their own enthusiastic Bridezillas. In fact, there was a pretty strong male contingent at the show, but believe it or not, very few dudes seemed passionately involved in the process.

Seeing the dazed look in my eye, the salespeople did their best to politely include me in the conversations. One lady even offered me a sample of vanilla scented hand cream, which I declined.

It was clear who was in charge of the operation, and who was merely along for moral and financial support.

While I was totally lost in this strange world of ribbons, lace and sparkly stuff, Amanda was in her element, gathering brochures, tasting samples, and making mental notes about ideas she liked and disliked.

“That dress was hideous!” “Oh I like her hair!” “No Leo, we can’t have a Calgary Flames theme at our wedding.”

You might think that attending a bridal show would bring out one’s feminine side, but truth be told, I’d never felt more like a guy in all my life.

Once we had perused the displays, I dared to hope it was time to go home, but no dice.

“We still need to see the fashion show,” she said sternly.

Of course. How stupid of me.

So for half an hour, we watched female models of various shapes and sizes storm down the runway in flowing white wedding gowns. And just when I thought the show couldn’t get anymore electrifying, we were treated to a live hair-styling demonstration.

At long last, Amanda said we could leave, which actually meant it was time to revisit a dozen of her favourite booths before making our way out the door.

Although it was a trying experience, I was glad to catch a glimpse of the strange and nice-smelling world of wedding preparation. I showed Amanda that I’m capable of taking an interest and supporting her through the planning process. I also discovered that I prefer pastel colours to natural tones.

It’s a neat thing to watch the woman you love put her lifelong dream into action, and as much as I would just love to be intimately involved in every little detail of the planning, I think it’s best for both of us if I just stay the heck out of the way.

PS: Amanda, I really think you should reconsider the whole Calgary Flames theme. I see some real potential there.