What is the very first thing you think of when it comes to wedding planning? Money. So let's talk about the dance named after it.

A money dance works without feeling awkward when three things are true: the MC explains it in one breath so nobody has to guess, it moves (a new partner every 30 to 45 seconds, so twenty guests take about fifteen minutes), and it lands inside open dancing after the floor is already warm, never on a slow song straight off dinner.

The most common misperception is that your guests will see it as the two of you begging for spending money. That could not be further from the truth. And if it's not you, don't do it. Here's where it comes from, how I run it, and the versions that leave the money out.

WHERE IT COMES FROM

The money dance is not something a DJ invented to fill a slot. In Polish, Filipino, Mexican, Greek, and Cajun families, and in a lot of the Portuguese families I work with around New Bedford, it has its own name and its own reason: the community sends the two of you off with something to start on, and each guest gets a minute of you that the rest of the night can't give them.

I have seen it done with an apron, with pins, with a satin bag, and with a shoe passed around the tables. Nobody in those rooms thinks anyone is begging. If it's in your family, keep it, and let the people who know it teach the room. If it isn't, it's still yours to take, as long as you take the meaning with it.

HOW IT ACTUALLY RUNS

From the booth, it's a small production. I announce it, call it whatever you told me to call it, and say how it works in two sentences. The two of you take separate spots on the floor. Two helpers you picked (a parent, someone in the wedding party) each run a line and tap the next person in.

I keep a stack of short, familiar songs and switch every 30 to 45 seconds, at the chorus, so the lines keep moving and nobody is stuck in a full slow song with a great-uncle. The container is whatever you like: a purse, a satin bag, a treasure chest, a tip jar, held by someone who isn't dancing. Ten to fifteen minutes for twenty or twenty-five guests, then straight back into the set.

The money dance card in Choosing Your Events asks the four things I ask: keep it or skip it, what you call it, what you collect in, and who runs the lines, and it counts the minutes from the guests you expect.

IF THE MONEY PART MAKES YOU CRINGE

  • Rename it. A best wishes dance, a honeymoon dance, a congratulations dance. The MC never says the word money and frames it as a minute with each of you. Truth be told, a fair number of guests still come up with a bill in hand, and by then nobody is uncomfortable, because nobody asked.
  • Cards instead of cash. Guests write their name on one side of a card and their best advice for a long marriage on the other, and that's the ticket to dance. You get a keepsake to read on the honeymoon.
  • Go all in. My honest advice is embrace it or skip it, and if you embrace it, have fun. Money songs all the way through, a rule that you dance in the style of the song, a fundraiser thermometer on the wall. Don't be shy.

Two things I'd leave out. A payment app code on a sign is not a money dance; the exchange, hand to hand, is the whole point, so keep it cash or make it cards. And don't let it run past fifteen minutes. Past that, the floor you worked all night to fill is standing in a line.

WHAT USUALLY GOES WRONG HERE

The room doesn't know what it is, so they watch instead of lining up. The song is a full slow ballad and the line stalls. It's placed right after dinner and the energy dips; a slow money dance can send a reception into a downward spiral (Schedule For Success says the same). Or the MC says "money" after you asked them not to.

QUESTIONS I GET ASKED

Where in the night does it go?

Inside open dancing, about 45 minutes in, after the floor has warmed up and before the last hour. Never as the first thing after dinner.

Do we have to dance with everyone in line?

No. The helpers keep the lines fair and the song changes do the rest. If the line is long, I shorten the switches, not the dance.

What if only a few people come up?

Then it's a five-minute moment with the people who wanted it, and I roll straight into the next song. Nobody notices a short one. Everyone notices a long one.

The dollar dance is not a desperate cry for cash. It's a moment that keeps its class when it's planned, and one of the few times in the night your guests get you one at a time. Besides, who doesn't love money?

Thanks! Chuck