Fake Expo the Latest Scam to Target Brides-to-Be

BOSTON (March 3) -- You can, apparently, be jilted long before you walk down the aisle.

Some 5,000 Boston brides-and-grooms-to-be learned this the hard way on Monday, when local police and the FBI announced the bridal convention they had registered for -- billed as New England's biggest and most extravagant -- was a sham.

Boston police said the would-be attendees bought tickets for $10 to $15 each, while another 100 to 200 wedding-industry vendors were conned out of $350 to $4,000 for floor space at The Boston 411 Home & Bridal Show 2010, which was to be held this weekend. Officials at the Hynes Convention Center were only alerted when vendors began calling to inquire when they could set up their booths.

The perpetrators, who advertised for months via an eventbrite.com Web site, Facebook, and Twitter, lured betrothed shoppers with promises of goody bags and raffle prizes, and said portions of the event's proceeds would go to Haiti earthquake victims.

Though more elaborate than most, the scam was by no means an uncommon occurrence for an industry where starry eyes are accompanied by open wallets, and most vendors require significant financial deposits months before the big day.

The majority involve financially ailing vendors who abruptly declare bankruptcy and hold on to deposits without delivering the goods. In the past 18 months, dress shops have shuttered everywhere from New Jersey, where brides angrily picketed outside the empty shop, to Oklahoma City. In 2005, a Baltimore-based online bridal retailer folded, leaving 1,100 women without a dress -- or their money. And back in the Boston area, dozens of couples found themselves without a place to wed when the Georgetown Country Club unexpectedly closed last September without refunding deposits in the $9,000 range.

Chad Michael Peters, a former investment banker who's now one of Boston's top wedding planners, wonders whether the fake convention might be a new twist on this phenomenon. News reports say the organizers-cum-con artists were extremely familiar with the wedding planning business.

"I do like to think it started out with honorable intentions; they probably really did think they were going to do this bridal show," he said. "But then they started spending the deposits and it just snowballed. The vast majority of people I've encountered in this industry have a passion for it and the best of intentions."

Except for when they don't: Some dress shops, for example, will cut out the labels from gowns, making it impossible for brides to comparison shop -- or even discern whether it's a designer or an imposter. Photographers will hold pictures hostage until the newlyweds pay an extra $500, or send a less-experienced colleague to shoot the big event; venues will tack on surcharges like cake-cutting fees that run into the hundreds of dollars. Limo companies advertise with images of luxury Escalade and Hummer vehicles, but then send an old beater instead.

Most of these cons are completely avoidable so long as the couple has a crystal-clear contract stipulating every last detail, from the name of the photographer to the specific make of limo and pick-up time. Verbal promises, obviously, invite trouble -- but brides' personal, often friendly relationships with the vendors who help them create their marital fantasy can blur common sense.

Even a seasoned pro like Peters admits it's happened to him. "I did an Indian wedding two years ago and got a quote for $1,000 worth of floral garlands," Peters said. "The bill comes in for $1,800 more, and I'm caught with my pants down because it wasn't a contract. Suffice it to say I learned my lesson."

He adds that getting hitched during the Great Recession only increases the need for vigilance.

"It's very easy to be a good businessperson in good times, and it's very difficult to be a good businessperson in difficult times," Peters said. "Brides have to be incredibly discerning."