To Garter or Not to Garter. Is That Your Question?
- Alan Mostov

- Feb 5
- 17 min read
Updated: Jun 8

Most wedding traditions are kitschy but cute. We wear something borrowed and something blue. We unveil the bride. We clink glasses until the newlyweds surrender and kiss. We cut the cake. We toss the bouquet. Most of these customs are charming little relics that have somehow survived the centuries, even if nobody is entirely sure why we still do them. They are traditions we inherit, traditions we witness growing up, traditions we eventually accept as part of the strange and wonderful ritual we call a wedding.
But no tradition is more baffling—or polarizing—than the garter removal. If you have ever attended a reception and watched a groom disappear beneath the bride's gown in pursuit of a lacy elastic band from his new wife's upper thigh, then remove it with his teeth before launching it into a crowd of cheering bachelors, you may have found yourself wondering how such a spectacle became part of a wedding celebration in the first place. Depending upon the couple, the moment can take on a variety of forms. Some grooms simply retrieve the garter and toss it with very little fanfare. Others treat it like a comedy sketch. Over the years, I have seen flashlights, magnifying glasses, forceps, safety goggles, and enough props to stock a small hardware store. I have watched grooms emerge triumphantly holding giant granny panties while the crowd doubled over laughing. I have seen brides repeatedly swat away wandering hands while "Keep Your Hands to Yourself" by the Georgia Satellites blasted through the speakers. I have seen choreographed skits. I have seen playful lap dances. And the music selections that accompany this moment? Ginuwine's "Pony," Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On," and ZZ Top's "Legs" are all common choices. So it the Mission Impossible theme or the theme to Jaws. Without fail, when the garter is removed half the room cheers and the other half buries their faces in their hands. Love it or hate it, the garter removal remains one of the most talked-about moments of many wedding receptions.
And that is what makes the tradition so fascinating. Few wedding customs seem to generate such wildly different reactions. Some couples view it as one of the few moments during the reception when they are given permission to be a little daring, a little flirtatious, and a little mischievous in front of their guests. They embrace the humor. They embrace the spectacle. They embrace the opportunity to make their friends laugh. Other couples find the tradition awkward, outdated, overly sexualized, or simply inconsistent with the tone they want for their wedding day. Both perspectives are completely understandable. What is far less understandable, however, is the history that produced the tradition in the first place. Because as strange as modern garter removals can occasionally become, their origins are infinitely stranger. The deeper I dug into the history, the more I found myself thinking that perhaps humanity should not be trusted with wedding traditions at all. Before deciding whether the garter belongs at your celebration, let's take a moment to understand where this tradition came from.
Technically speaking, the garter was never created as a wedding accessory at all. Its original purpose was entirely practical. Before the invention of elastic fabrics, modern hosiery, and garter belt clips, stockings had an annoying habit of sliding down throughout the day. The garter solved that problem by securing them in place. There was nothing particularly romantic about it. There was certainly nothing symbolic about it. It was simply a functional piece of clothing designed to keep another piece of clothing where it belonged. Like suspenders, belts, shoelaces, and a thousand other practical inventions, it existed because gravity has always been stubbornly committed to doing its job.
Over time, however, fashion evolved. Stockings improved. Materials improved. Pantyhose arrived. Elastic became commonplace. Eventually, the practical need for garters largely disappeared, yet wedding traditions have never been especially concerned with practicality. Long after the garment itself became unnecessary, the tradition survived. Today, most brides who wear a garter do so entirely for symbolic reasons. Some wear one. Others wear two—one designated for the toss and another to keep as a memento. Some purchase elaborate custom garters embroidered with wedding dates, initials, or family heirlooms. Others buy one simply because their mother wore one, their grandmother wore one, and it feels like part of the experience. In many ways, the modern wedding garter occupies the same space as the bouquet toss itself. Most participants understand that nobody is actually determining who will marry next. Nobody believes a flying elastic band possesses mystical matchmaking powers. Yet traditions often survive because they connect us to something larger than ourselves. Logic has very little to do with it.
These days, the garter toss is generally considered the male counterpart to the bouquet toss. The groom removes the garter and tosses it into a crowd of eligible bachelors, supposedly passing along a bit of wedding luck to whomever catches it. The symbolism is straightforward enough—the bachelor who catches the garter is the next to get married. Of course, this is a tradition that’s more fun than realistic, and in practice, it’s really a raunchy charade for a group of men to chase after a woman's undergarment once it’s tossed by the groom. The execution, however, varies wildly from wedding to wedding. Some couples keep the moment brief and elegant. Others turn it into a comedy routine that threatens to steal the show entirely. As a wedding DJ, I have witnessed enough variations to fill an entire blog post of their own. I've seen grooms carefully retrieve the garter while treating the moment with the solemnity of a diplomatic negotiation. I've seen others approach the task with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter searching for buried gold. I've watched crowds cheer, laugh, cringe, applaud, and occasionally beg for the whole thing to end already. Like many wedding traditions, the garter toss is ultimately less about the tradition itself and more about the personalities of the people participating in it.
What most people do not realize is that the symbolism attached to the garter extends far beyond the modern bouquet-and-garter pairing. Weddings throughout history often involved the transfer of luck, fortune, prosperity, and status. We tend to think of weddings today as celebrations of love, but for much of human history they also functioned as social, economic, and political arrangements. Dowries were exchanged. Property changed hands. Livestock was gifted. Jewelry, land, money, and family alliances often accompanied the marriage itself. The joining of two people frequently represented the joining of two families, two fortunes, or two bloodlines. In many cultures, wedding guests wanted to participate in that transfer of good fortune as well. They wanted a token. A souvenir. A symbol. A tangible piece of the blessing surrounding the newlyweds. Unfortunately for brides throughout history, that desire occasionally manifested itself in ways that were less than ideal.
And this is where the story begins taking a turn into territory so strange that, had I not researched it myself, I probably would not believe it either. In Ye Olden European wedding traditions, obtaining a trinket from the bride was always thought to be a harbinger of luck in love and future nuptials. That much is easy enough to understand. Human beings have always been fascinated by luck. We carry lucky coins. We wear lucky shirts. We refuse to step on cracks. We develop elaborate rituals around sporting events despite having absolutely no influence over the outcome whatsoever. The desire to capture a little extra good fortune is hardly unique to weddings. What made this particular version unusual was the method. Guests didn't simply want a keepsake from the wedding. They wanted a keepsake from the bride. More specifically, they wanted a piece of something she was wearing. Following the ceremony, attendees would rush toward the bride, tearing away portions of her gown, veil, ribbons, sleeves, or undergarments in hopes of obtaining a lucky souvenir. The accounts become even more unsettling when you realize that brides were not merely losing a sleeve or a ribbon here and there. In some instances, women were stripped of all wedding attire and left standing before the crowd with little remaining dignity and even less remaining clothing.
At that point, one begins to wonder whether the guests were truly interested in obtaining a lucky token at all. Were they after the fabric? Or were they after the spectacle? Were they genuinely concerned with securing good fortune for their future marriages, or had the tradition simply become a socially acceptable excuse to invade a bride's personal space, assaulting her under the convenient banner of superstition? The historical record cannot answer those questions with certainty, but it is difficult to read these accounts without raising an eyebrow.
After all, if luck was the objective, surely a ribbon would suffice. A glove. A handkerchief. A small piece of lace. Why continue until the bride was left humiliated before her family and friends? Why was the destruction of the gown itself part of the entertainment? The deeper I dug into these traditions, the more they seemed to reveal an uncomfortable truth about human nature. People have always been remarkably skilled at disguising curiosity, voyeurism, and bad behavior beneath the language of tradition. Give almost any activity a ceremonial purpose, and suddenly otherwise reasonable people become willing participants. Medieval wedding guests, it would seem, were no exception.
I realize that modern weddings occasionally feature a few enthusiastic guests, but this takes enthusiasm to an entirely different level. Every time I read about this tradition, I find myself wondering what the bride's mother thought about the arrangement. Did she simply stand there watching strangers disassemble months of tailoring and think, "Well, that's wedding luck for you"? Did nobody object? Did nobody look around and suggest that perhaps there was a less destructive way to distribute good fortune? Evidently not. For reasons that remain completely baffling to me, this practice persisted long enough to become an accepted part of wedding culture. Nothing like the public ripping of a bride's hand-sewn gown to start out a life together! Ah, the romance of marriage!
It soon came to pass that brides, in order to protect themselves and their fashion choices, began finding ways to satisfy the crowd to avoid arriving at their receptions naked. Rather than allowing guests unrestricted access to their gowns, brides started tossing items into the gathering instead. Scarves. Gloves. Ribbons. Small favors. And, eventually, garters. If the crowd wanted a token of good fortune, then the bride would provide one voluntarily rather than allow them to take whatever they pleased. In many ways, this was one of the earliest examples of crowd control in wedding history. The bride was effectively saying, "Here. Take this and leave me alone."
Of course, if human history has taught us anything, it is that whenever a tradition begins to move in a more reasonable direction, someone inevitably finds a way to make it weird again.
By the fourteenth century, a French custom known as Fingering the Garter had begun to emerge. Before we go any further, I would like to formally apologize for the fact that this tradition exists at all. I would also like to apologize for the fact that it somehow becomes worse the more one learns about it. The medieval world placed enormous importance on a bride's virginity and the consummation of the marriage. In fact, describing it as "important" may be one of the greatest understatements in wedding history. Families cared. Communities cared. Religious authorities cared. Inheritance laws cared. Entire bloodlines, fortunes, and property transfers were often tied to the certainty that any future children belonged to the groom. Consequently, what we would today consider a deeply private matter was treated as a matter of public concern.
Following the wedding ceremony, couples would sometimes retire to the marriage chamber to consummate the union. This was not merely symbolic. In many cases, consummation was viewed as the final act that made the marriage fully binding. The problem, of course, was that people wanted proof. Apparently, simply taking the newlyweds at their word was not considered sufficient. Families and guests often expected evidence that everything had proceeded according to plan. Sometimes this evidence came in the form of bloodstained bed linens displayed after the fact. Let us pause for a moment and appreciate just how strange that sentence sounds to modern ears. Imagine attending a wedding today and being told to remain seated because the reception could not begin until someone produced documentation. Yet for centuries, this was considered perfectly normal.
The garter became entangled in this practice because it occupied a very specific location on the bride's body. Guests would sometimes gather near the marriage chamber waiting for confirmation that the marriage had been consummated. In certain accounts, individuals were invited to approach the bride afterward and place their hands near her upper thigh where the garter rested. Often, the first person granted this privilege would claim the garter as proof that consummation had occurred. It was a bizarre mixture of superstition, voyeurism, public validation, and symbolic souvenir collecting. The entire practice feels less like a wedding tradition and more like something dreamed up by a committee that had never once heard the phrase "personal boundaries."
And yet, somehow, we are not finished.
As uncomfortable as the French custom sounds, some English traditions managed to push things even further. In certain regions, guests were invited into the marriage chamber while the newlyweds were attempting to consummate the marriage. Their purpose was not merely observation. That would apparently have been too restrained. Instead, guests would attempt to throw discarded lingerie and stockings at the couple while they were in bed together. According to superstition, whoever successfully struck the newlyweds on the nose with a stocking would supposedly be the next person to marry. I am not making this up. I genuinely wish I were. Every time I encounter this piece of wedding history, I find myself imagining the poor couple involved. You're attempting to begin married life together while relatives and friends are apparently treating your bedroom like a carnival midway game. Somewhere along the line, humanity collectively decided this was a perfectly reasonable use of an evening.
Let's just pause here for a moment and acknowledge what we've learned. We began with a harmless little elastic band hidden beneath a wedding gown. A few paragraphs later, we have encountered public disrobing, wedding dress destruction, virginity inspections, bloodstained linens, and airborne hosiery. Suddenly, a groom removing a garter with his teeth while the DJ plays "Pony" feels remarkably tame. In fact, compared to some of these earlier traditions, the modern garter toss begins to look positively sophisticated. History has a funny way of doing that. The more you learn about the past, the more reasonable the present starts to seem.
Fortunately, somewhere along the way, people began recognizing that perhaps wedding guests should not be stripping brides, inspecting consummations, or turning newlyweds into unwilling participants in what can only be described as medieval reality television. As shocking as that statement may sound, it actually represents genuine progress. Gradually, the focus shifted away from direct access to the bride herself and toward symbolic objects associated with the wedding. Rather than allowing guests to pursue the bride, grooms began removing the garter and throwing it into the crowd. The symbolism remained. The transfer of luck remained. The souvenir remained. What disappeared, thankfully, was much of the accompanying chaos. Thus, the modern garter toss was born—not as a flirtatious reception activity, but as a practical solution designed to keep overly enthusiastic wedding guests from manhandling the bride.
The irony, of course, is that most modern couples have absolutely no idea any of this happened. Nor should they. When the DJ announces the garter toss today, nobody is thinking about medieval superstition, inheritance law, public consummation rituals, or airborne stockings. They're thinking about having fun. They're thinking about making their guests laugh. They're thinking about creating a memorable moment during the reception. Like so many wedding traditions, the original purpose has long since faded while the ritual itself remains. Very few people know why we stand for the bride's entrance. Very few people know why wedding rings are worn on a specific finger. And very few people realize that the garter toss originated as a defensive measure against crowds determined to obtain physical access to the bride. Traditions have a funny way of outliving the reasons they were created.
Today, the garter removal exists in a completely different cultural space. For many couples, it represents one of the few moments during the reception when they are given an unofficial free pass to be a little daring, a little mischievous, and a little flirtatious in front of their guests. Not vulgar. Not offensive. Just playful. Weddings are, after all, celebrations of a romantic relationship. They are one of the few occasions in life where a room full of people gathers specifically to celebrate the love shared between two individuals. It should not surprise us that some couples occasionally choose to lean into that aspect of the day. For those couples, the garter removal can become one of the most entertaining moments of the entire reception. As half the guests cheer and the other half suddenly become fascinated by the centerpieces., the best garter removals are never really about the garter itself. They're about the couple's personality. They reveal something about the relationship, the sense of humor, and the comfort level of the people participating.
That, I think, is what sometimes gets lost when discussions about the garter tradition become polarized. There are certainly brides who find the entire thing awkward, antiquated, misogynistic, or unnecessarily sexualized. Those feelings are valid. There are also brides who genuinely enjoy the tradition and view it as one of the most entertaining parts of the reception. Those feelings are equally valid. I have worked with couples from both groups, and I have never felt that either side was wrong. One of the beautiful things about modern weddings is that couples are increasingly empowered to make choices that reflect who they are rather than what tradition demands. If a garter removal feels fun, authentic, and consistent with your personalities, wonderful. If it makes you uncomfortable, skip it without a second thought. Neither choice makes your wedding better or worse. It simply makes it yours.
Perhaps the most interesting development, however, is not the survival of the garter toss but the growing number of alternatives that have emerged alongside it. Modern couples have become remarkably creative when it comes to reinventing traditions. Some still love the idea of gathering guests around the dance floor and creating a fun, interactive moment, but they want something that feels less gendered, less suggestive, or simply more reflective of their personalities. As a result, wedding receptions today often feature traditions that would have been completely unrecognizable to previous generations.

One increasingly popular variation is the football garter toss. Rather than tossing the garter directly into the crowd, the groom attaches it to a football and launches it toward a gathering of eager bachelors. Somewhere along the way, a group of men collectively decided that handling a delicate piece of lace required the addition of a spiral pass. The symbolism remains exactly the same, but the presentation has received a distinctly American makeover. I have watched otherwise reserved guests transform into NFL wide receivers the moment that football enters the equation. Apparently chasing lingerie is one thing. Chasing a football attached to lingerie is an entirely different competitive experience.
Some toss the garter without the removal itself. Some reverse the roles entirely and have the groom wear the garter. Of course, my personal favorite alternative occurred at a wedding several years ago when a couple decided that if they were going to replace the traditional garter removal, they might as well commit fully to the bit. The groom was blindfolded and seated in a chair in the center of the dance floor. The guests were informed that he would attempt to locate his bride's garter without the benefit of sight. What he did not know was that the bride had quietly slipped away and been replaced by one of the groomsmen. This particular groomsman, understanding the assignment better than perhaps anyone in attendance, had prepared for the occasion. He had shaved his legs. Thoroughly. By all appearances, from the knees down at least, he was ready for his moment in the spotlight.
The groom, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware. The crowd was already beginning to lose composure before the game even started. Friends were turning red. Family members were struggling to maintain eye contact with one another. The bride herself could barely stand upright from laughing. Then the search began. The groom cautiously reached forward, attempting to locate the garter while the crowd erupted with encouragement, warnings, and increasingly unhelpful advice. Every time he moved closer to discovering the truth, the room seemed to collectively stop breathing. Every time he missed it, the laughter grew louder. What made the entire thing work was the absolute sincerity with which everyone involved committed to the joke. Nobody broke character. Nobody gave away the surprise.
When the blindfold finally came off and the groom discovered that he had spent the last several minutes searching the leg of one of his closest friends rather than his new wife, the room absolutely exploded. People were bent over tables. Guests were wiping tears from their eyes. Even years later, I can still remember the sound of the laughter. It wasn't merely a funny wedding moment. It was one of those rare reception memories that instantly becomes legend among the people who were there.
Long after anyone remembers what centerpieces were on the tables or what flavor the wedding cake happened to be, I suspect that crowd will remember the night a groomsman shaved his legs and became the bride for five glorious minutes. And honestly, that may be the most wedding thing imaginable: taking a tradition, making it your own, and creating a story people will still be telling years later.
I have seen couples toss the groom's boutonniere instead of a garter. And some combine the bouquet toss and garter toss into a single event. I have seen bouquet tosses opened to everyone rather than limited by gender. Some couples break apart the bouquet and present individual flowers to important family members and friends, and TikTok and Instagram reels have popularized the dedication of the bouquet to the brides' mothers. Still others abandon both traditions altogether and replace them with something that better reflects their personalities. Animal lovers have tossed plush teddy bears into the crowd. Food lovers have tossed gift cards to favorite restaurants. I've even seen couples distribute prizes hidden beneath chairs or attached to tables. The underlying goal remains exactly the same as it has always been: create a memorable moment, involve the guests, and send someone home with a little piece of the celebration.
One of the fastest-growing alternatives in recent years has been the T-shirt toss. If that sounds suspiciously like something you might witness at a major league baseball game, that's because it essentially is. Couples have custom shirts made for the wedding and toss them into the crowd, sometimes by hand and sometimes with the assistance of a T-shirt cannon. There is something wonderfully ridiculous about watching Grandma, a college roommate, and a twelve-year-old cousin simultaneously dive for a souvenir shirt bearing the newlyweds' names and wedding date. Yet unlike the traditional bouquet or garter toss, everyone can participate. Nobody is singled out because of their age, gender, or relationship status. The result is often one of the most energetic moments of the evening.
What I find most interesting about the wedding garter is not its bizarre history, nor even the fact that it has somehow survived for centuries. What fascinates me is its ability to evolve. No couples perform the tradition today for the same reasons their ancestors did. Thankfully. Instead, each generation seems to reinvent it for its own purposes. Some turn it into comedy. Some turn it into flirtation. Some turn it into a football toss. Some abandon it altogether and create something entirely new.
And perhaps that is exactly what wedding traditions are supposed to do.
Traditions are not museum exhibits. They are not frozen in time. They survive because each generation finds a way to make them meaningful. Sometimes that means preserving them exactly as they were. Sometimes it means modifying them. Sometimes it means replacing them entirely. The wedding garter has endured because couples continue finding new ways to make it their own.
As with everything else wedding-related, choosing whether or not to include the garter removal comes down to personal preference.
Today, most brides wear a garter even if they do not intend to have it removed. Those who do typically choose to uphold the tradition as a meaningful part of their celebration, an accessory for wedding photos, a chic heirloom to keep for future generations, or a sexy addition to the wedding night. Some brides wear their wedding garter as an all-day tradition; others take it on and off for different parts of the celebration. The two best times to wear the garter are for your “getting ready” or “bridal boudoir” photoshoot before the ceremony, and then later in the reception if you want to host the garter toss. In between those times, some brides opt to keep the garter in their bag or pocket for safekeeping.
Whether you choose to wear one, toss one, photograph one, replace one, or skip it entirely is ultimately beside the point. The real purpose of a wedding tradition is not to honor the past. It is to help tell your story. If the garter helps tell that story, wonderful. If it doesn't, leave it behind without a second thought. After everything we've learned about its history, I suspect the brides of medieval Europe would completely understand.
A wedding tradition built on luck, superstition, romance, embarrassment, flying stockings, and more than a little medieval weirdness.




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