It's 9:30 a.m. and I'm already hungry. The reception meal is at 11:30. Eating now might spoil my appetite for the course meal I've been looking forward to. So I drink water and wait. I'm very much looking forward to the food.
Meanwhile, I add up this visit: a ¥30,000 cash gift, transport, clothing and small preparations. Around ¥40,000 altogether. Isn't that practically a holiday budget? The ¥30,000 was my gift for this wedding, not a rule for what everyone should give.
A trip would give me more freedom to choose
With that money, I could go somewhere in Japan and choose what to do and eat. But attending a close friend's wedding means more than buying a meal and half a day of entertainment.
Perhaps later they'll remember, “You came that day.” It reminds me of being grateful for friends who met me after a breakup or when I left a job. They might remember only a meal and a conversation. I remember that they were there during that stretch of my life.
People can have good reasons not to attend. Missing a wedding does not automatically harm a friendship. This time, I could go, and wanted to share the day.
“Travel here, spend a few tens of thousands of yen and keep half a day free” is quite a request on an ordinary day. A wedding gives everyone a reason to arrange it.
I can celebrate and still grumble about handwriting my address
Preparing the Japanese gift envelope meant writing my name, the amount and a long address on its small inner envelope. Couldn't this part just be a form?
There is a purpose. Zexy's guide explains that the information identifies who gave how much if envelopes become separated or mixed up. Japan Post's shop guidance also shows how to write the amount, address and name.
Identifying the gift matters. Handwriting forty characters of address on a small piece of paper can still feel like a chore.
Wanting to celebrate my friend and wondering who designed these fiddly steps can coexist. The gift is ready. The address is written. I'm glad I could come. Now, please bring the food.
