cakes and bunting

preparation

2012-01-31T04:37:00.000-08:00

When we got back to the farm, J and I posed for a couple of photos by the car, and then parted. I met the hair and make up ladies, who had been having a cuppa while waiting for me, and we went up to the room.

I hadn't realised the importance of this time - the reason there are so many photos of people getting ready when you see wedding photos online. There aren't many rituals in life now, especially for the non-religious. But this time - I felt the weight of ritual; the importance of what we were doing. I felt like I was taking part in something significant and old. Most of these hours were spent quietly, with only some music on at the very end. I enjoyed the quiet very much.

My mum and J's mum had their make up done while my hair was put in rollers, and then I was made up and dressed. Best ladies popped in and out with logistical questions and moral support - and also with a big bag of snacks. I love the photo of everyone looking at the photo album (a gift from hen party friends with photos and words from each, given to me by best lady G the night before to read "once you're in bed, before you go to sleep") and tucking in.

My friend A, who was doing a reading in the ceremony, came up with a sixpence for my shoe. My lovely auntie came up and cried and hugged me over and over.

Hannah the photographer came and went, as did Adam the videographer, documenting this quiet time. Eventually, all best ladies came and said that it was time for them to go up the hill, to string some bunting a few minutes ahead of time. I asked one of them, Liv, to stay with me.

When I had been helped into my dress and my veil had been pinned on, Liv bought up my flowers and dried them off. "Do you want to see yourself in the mirror?" asked the hair lady. I hadn't even considered what I looked like, with no big mirror in the room, I'd only seen my face. I went to the mirror in the corridor and stood silently for a few seconds.

That was me, sure enough. Cool dress, great hair, lovely make up. Incredible flowers. Veil, shoes, the works. I looked like a pretty awesome version of me. I said only one word...

"Awesome!"

And everyone in the room, who had evidently been holding their collective breaths in silence, started laughing. "We thought you'd started crying," said the hair lady. My dad came up to see me, and I remembered to put the sixpence in my shoe (where it promptly fell out, and was reinstalled in the bouquet).

Someone suggested that it was time to go down. "Is there anyone down there?" I asked, suddenly wondering if the guests had arrived. Liv looked at me and laughed again: "Claire, everyone is down there!"

The credits

Make up: Carly at Another Little World in Yeovil in Somerset - uses only natural mineral make up. Brilliant brilliant brilliant. And also so sweet, lovely - such wonderful company during that time. She even bought me a little present - a wooden heart with the word 'love' on it which she left for us to find after the wedding.

Hair was by Kim Lane of Signature Hair in Somerset. Now she doesn't have a website and all I have is an email address and phone number, which I'm not sure I should put online. So if you want a brilliant hairdresser based in Somerset, drop me a line and I'll put you in touch with her.

The dress was by the wonderful wonderful House of Mooshki, and as you know, was won in their incredible Christmas 2011 competition, in association with Love My Dress. Gratitude does not cover it. I love them.

Flowers by Marsh Mallow Flower Design, also in Somerset. Aren't they goddamnned awesome? Bec at Marshmallow is a genius.

And as ever, all photos by the genius Hannah Dornford-May

the register office

2012-01-17T07:13:00.001-08:00

The legal bit was done. We didn't exchange rings, but just had a simple ceremony with family in attendance. Mums and dads, siblings and a few aunts and uncles. It was quick and fun and informal. I wore the shawl my mum had made. I couldn't stop giggling throughout, and on the way back, Jon and I scooted around the country lanes of Somerset, singing Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros 'Home', all the way. The excitement proper was about to begin...

All photographs by Hannah Dornford-May

the morning - the second part

2012-01-17T06:57:00.000-08:00

After the restorative cup of tea, I threw on last nights clothes and ran down to breakfast. That thing about brides not eating did not apply to me. One bowl of cereal, half a danish, half a croissant and three pieces of toast later, I ran back upstairs to get dressed before J came down (we had co-ordinated times to eat so we didn't see each other). On the way out, I clocked J's beloved old red car - a 16 year old VW Polo - festooned with ribbons and balloons, with a crooked 'Just Married' in the back window. I would later find out that he'd done it at 7am, unable to sleep, and that my best lady had helped him when his unsteady hands struggled to write on the window.

I pulled on dress number 1 - the short 1960s job that I'd managed to find at a vastly reduced price in an outlet store. A beautiful Kaliko lace dress that made me a feel a teensy bit like I should have kohl eyeliner and an unsuitable mod boyfriend. I put on the viking necklace that J had given me two weeks before, and my gran's 'something blue' - a necklace of Derbyshire bluejohn given to her by my stepgrandad. And with that, my charm bracelet - given as a Christening gift by an aunt and godmother, and added to every year. That's it in the top picture.

I felt the weight of ritual, that it was important to wear these things. I wore the dress with a comfy pair of peep toe shoes, and just as I was about to leave the room, realised I had no flowers. I grabbed two gerberas from a bouquet sent by a client and bought down the day before (shame to leave them at home) and wrapped them in a spare bit of lace I'd bought for something else and not ultimately needed.

Then with my mum and dad nagging me to hurry up (some things never change) we hot-footed it to the car, so that they could drive me to the register office.

the morning - the first part

2012-01-17T06:40:00.000-08:00

The morning of our wedding was much odder than I expected. I had gone to sleep late, but didn't wake until my mum, who had probably been awake for hours, knocked at my door with a shawl I know she had spent months making.

Inside was a short note, with handwriting that got more crabbed as the carefully considered words made their way through. She quoted 'Poem for a daughter' by Anne Stevenson, which she had read years ago, and said: "I've never had you, as you still have me, Claire"

Poem for a Daughter

“I think I’m going to have it,”
I said, joking between pains.
The midwife rolled competent
sleeves over corpulent milky arms.
“Dear, you never have it,
we deliver it.”
A judgment years prove true.
Certainly I’ve never had you

as you still have me, Caroline.
Why does a mother need a daughter?
Heart’s needle, hostage to fortune,
freedom’s end. Yet nothing’s more perfect
than that bleating, razor-shaped cry
that delivers a mother to her baby.
The bloodcord snaps that held
their spheres together. The child,
tiny and alone, creates the mother.

A woman’s life is her own
until it is taken away
by a first particular cry.
Then she is not alone
but part of the premises
of everything there is:
a time, a tribe, a war.
When we belong to the world
we become what we are.

Anne Stevenson

We sat on the bed - me still in my pyjamas, and my mum in tears, holding me. And then she went, as mums are wont to do, to make me a cup of tea. I felt quite tiny and yet quite old at the same time.

the night before and the tale of the smashed cake

2012-01-11T14:49:00.000-08:00

The most beautiful sky

I don't know if you'll agree with me or not, but I feel that this blog is more than just a place for pretty pictures. I like to tell stories, and so alongside the pictures I'll be choosing the most interesting bits of the day to tell you about. I promise to try and keep it entertaining.

We arrived at our venue, Huntstile Organic Farm in Somerset, the day before the wedding. Our little old red VW was jammed to the rafters with stuff. It had been a fairly eventful drive down with two small mishaps - a misunderstanding about the presence of hay bales at the ceremony space, and J's parents forgetting the confetti.

At this point, I had given up. I didn't want to kick up a fuss for either thing; to be a b****zilla. I was going to let both go. Then, both times, J took the phone off me and did something that no woman to be could ever do, lest the evil B word be used. He politely but in a firm, no nonsense fashion got the hay bales sorted. And to his mum, who was only a little way from London but almost in tears at the confetti incident, told her it would be OK, but it was one of our main decorations and we had made litres of the stuff, so they did have to go back and get it. It would only add an hour onto their journey. (We weren't to know that they were driving at 50... and it added two and a half...)

So we arrived at the venue something magic happened. I felt pretty much all stress leave my body. I felt calm and capable. I had two dresses. I had J. All I was worried about was everyone arriving safely.

And slowly, people began to arrive. And those usual day-before things got done. Bunting was hung (we had twice as much as we needed). Things were set on tables. Hair trial. Make up trial (left until this last minute because I had to find new people at short notice).

And then, while I was having my nails painted, my mum came into the room.

Mum: Don't freak out, but something's happened.

Me: [thinking the worst: motorway pile ups, child fallen off trampoline in garden, ambulances] What? What is it?

Mum: It's the cake. It's a bit... smashed.

Me: Oh thank god. Is it stil edible?

All I could think was: phew. It's just a cake. I promised L (best lady and courageous bringer of cake) that I wouldn't care if something happened to it. I knew whatever it was wouldn't be her fault. More than the cake, I needed to find her (my mum having told me she was very upset) and tell her it was OK.

Then the amazing wedding organiser and farmer's partner Lizzie came into the room.

Lizzie: So your cake. It really is quite trashed. I need to tell you that before you see it. I guess everyone here is telling you it's OK but honestly... it's not... you should prepare yourself. But I've got a friend who might be able to fix it. So I'll call her, you go and look and we'll think of a solution.

I still didn't care. I was starting to find it a little bit funny. Hey the cake got trashed! If this was the worst thing that happened, we'd be OK. It would be a funny story.

Here's the cake:

It's wrong how hungry this makes me

That's the victoria sponge cake layer there. On top were to be carrot cake, and green tea, ginger and vanilla. My god, it smelt amazing. Still, despite a tiny stomach flip when the box was undone (it does look a little surprisingly smashed, no doubt about it), nothing could shake the calm - the same one that descended as soon as we arrived. That was it. It had happened. Never mind. The top two layers were less smashed. We could still put those on the table to cut in case anyone cared about the photos. Done. Move on. It's just cake.

L had been hugged and reassured as much as humanly possible. It was a freak accident. Just the extreme heat of the car. No one could have done anything differently. I could tell she still felt awful but I meant it. Not her fault.

So we went for dinner - delicious dinner, beef stew and then chocolate bread and butter pudding, catered by the farm. We sat upstairs in an old barn and got rather tipsy and then both parents brought out huge albums and packets of awful baby and child photos of J and I. Such a lovely evening. At some point. Lizzie's amazing mate arrived and began working on the cake in another building - I believed that she was patching up what she could.

Do I look like a girl worried about cake?

The next morning, as we ate breakfast, Lizzie invited me into the kitchen to see the cake. All decorations and icing had been removed and then carefully reapplied. The entire cake was re-iced and redecorated, and the bottom layer was an iced cake tin. The smashed layer would stay out the back and be served up - no one would be any the wiser.

And this is the cake we had the next day:

I know. That's pretty awesome, right? It was returned to every bit of its former glory - you would never know a thing (unless you tried to eat the base.) It turned out Lizzie's mate was actually a professional baker. Her forte? Rude cakes. As Lizzie put it "ladies in bikinis and corsets for stag parties and men's bums." What a brilliant woman. They had stayed up until almost 3am, drinking sloe gin, gossiping and redecorating.

The credits

The baker par excellence was Victoria Glass. The cake collapse was not Victoria's fault in any way. She did everything right and bless her, even offered to make us another cake as a gesture - even though it really wasn't her fault, just the extreme extreme heat and a very unexpectedly long car trip.

Her cakes are DELICIOUS of the highest order. Her flavour list is incredible (peanut butter and jelly wedding cake? No problem!) - and when you book her, you get a CAKE TASTING which will be one of the greatest afternoons you will ever have. Before we found Victoria (she did our friends' wedding cake) we weren't going to have a cake at all. That's how good she was - converted a couple of non-wedding cake fans into buying a pretty bloody big, awesome cake. I only ever wanted a tasty cake and I've said it before, but even the smell was intoxicating. I could have put my face into that smashed up bottom tier. Best. Cake. Ever.

The cake fixer was a lady by the name of Kate Legg. Now I can't find a thing about her online, but if you ever want a rude cake in the Somerset region, I suggest you call Hunstile Farm and ask Lizzie to call Kate.

All photos, bar the last one, are taken by friends and family. The last photo is by the wonderful photographer Hannah Dornford-May. More of hers to come...!

finally...the wedding. Part 1

2012-01-09T04:43:00.000-08:00

Well it's taken long enough, really. We only got married, what, four months ago now.

(But there's a reason we had to wait. I had been told that someone wanted to blog the wedding. They told me they definitely wanted to do it. And out of decency, I waited. And then they didn't. So.)

Hard to know where to start, really. It felt so all consuming, for the whole time we were engaged. I threw myself into it so whole-heartedly. I created things and organised things and I loved it. Bloody loved it. I even look back on the attempts to print things in the week before with something approaching fondness (I did not feel fond of it at the time).

And what resulted? Truly one of the most amazing days of my life, done how we wanted. Happy guests who we know had a blast.

And what followed put it all into perspective. We got married, had a honeymoon and then we moved our lives 400 miles away. The wedding? Piece of cake compared with that.

So I'm going to try to keep this all fairly, relatively brief. I won't give you hour-by-hour recaps. And this is what I'm going to start with. A short 'trailer' video of our wedding. The video that almost wasn't, and was only decided upon two weeks before.

Why so late? A cameraman schoolfriend of mine set up a small company with a friend, making wedding and corporate vids. I had given them a huge project through work, and as a favour, they offered to do our vid for expenses only. A bargain. So we did it.

What this video centres on is our outdoor ceremony, performed by our friend. You will hear just a few lines of it (though if it would be helpful, I will post some of the detail). You finally get to see what I look like, the dress I won, the flowers I loved so much that I took them to the Outer Hebrides on honeymoon, and what J actually stands for (and indeed, what he looks like).

The company that my friend formed is called Make It Media and they are based in the midlands. Best wedding video company in the midlands/Nottingham/Coventry? I think so... ;)

Claire & Jon Wedding Montage from makeitmedia on Vimeo.

rule number one

2011-11-29T15:14:00.000-08:00

(source)

I broke one of the only rules I ever set for myself the other day. At a party, someone said something nice about my appearance.

What did I do?

Absolutely categorically said no, no, I wasn't pretty, I was big and heavy and lumbering. Look at all these thin people - I feel like a monster next to them. Or in similar words, with a slightly tipsy bent.

What the hell was I doing? The one rule - the main rule of being a woman. One I realised around age 13, when after many years of really bad bullying (which little did I realise, wasn't quite over) said I would never give anyone any ammunition with which to judge me again.

Why not: "Why thank you. That's very sweet of you to say"? or "Haha - thank you. Not sure I agree, but thank you anyway"? Why instead: "No, you are wrong - I am a troll."

Not only did I humiliate myself a little by doing this, but I also basically told the person I was speaking to that she was wrong and her opinion invalid. Whether or not she honestly believed it, she felt moved enough to say it (apropos of nothing, by the way - it was not fished for).

How can I stop doing this? I don't know. Perhaps it's good to do it occasionally, to realise what a thoroughly twattish thing it is to do.

And that's not breaking the rule, incidentally. Sometimes I am a twat, but I hope that it's a temporary state. Unlike, say, the shape of my body (which though changing, will never be waif-like).

Ladies - learn from my mistake! Let's stop doing this to ourselves and recognise when we do it. It is WRONG. Good on you if you don't need this reminder. I think every woman I know does. Maybe you are all paragons of not doing yourself down. In which case - write to me and tell me how you do it.

do i need a new blog?

2011-11-23T01:16:00.001-08:00

A genuine question, and one I can't quite make my mind up about. I do have another blog (indeed, a whole other online life) and that's why I blog here anonymously. I do love having this place, where I can write about things that have nothing to do with work, things that matter personally.

But I can't escape from the fact that this blog began as something about the wedding. The name of it limits it slightly in that. There is now so much else I want to write about, but 'cakes and bunting' doesn't really cover it. But then I've built up a whole community of friends with this blog. Do I need to change it? It would seem natural to cover the wedding and then move onto a new place. But is this necessary, helpful?

Thoughts?

when did things get so serious?

2011-11-17T04:27:00.001-08:00

Since the wedding, it seems to have all come at once. Or rather, since just before the wedding.

Two weeks before the wedding, two very close friends lost their baby. Not a miscarriage. It was too far on. A stillbirth. A pain impossible to understand.

They came to the wedding. For them, it was like a release I think. They had a good time they said, forgot about things as much as they could. They would have been due in three weeks.

Then another friend became pregnant. A wonderful, much wanted piece of news.

And then, at a leaving party recently, a friend was struggling. A couple of friends whispered that it was the abortion - she was still getting over it. Abortion? My god. OK. It was understandable, made sense. But to some friends, it really didn't make sense. They couldn't comprehend why she would do it. The tension was evident.

Then, another confession over dinner, another friend. She tells me that she was pregnant this year. Oh no. I know how much she wants a baby. A miscarriage? No, a much-agonised over abortion, simply because in their tiny, tiny studio flat in London, their not well-paid jobs and their current life, there was simply no way to make it work. Three agonising weeks it took them to make the decision. Three weeks of working out if they could move back to parents' houses, where the jobs would be, how they could live. They couldn't. They couldn't. They couldn't. It couldn't work.

Now they are at a joyous time again, about to marry, with plans for forming a family uppermost in their lives and their every decision. In a way, it was a catalyst for moving on their lives.

Maybe that's just what happens at a certain time. Things get serious.

so...

2011-11-09T09:23:00.000-08:00

So I didn't blog about the wedding at the time, because I'd promised not to. Because, as you might remember, I won my dress. And so the kind and lovely people that gave me the dress really do have first dibs on pictures and things.

But it's really just dawned on me that this doesn't mean that I can't talk about other parts of the wedding - that don't just yet involve the big shiny pictures or the video.

And so I will. I'll tell you all about the eventful journey down, where Jon's mum and dad forgot the gallons of confetti and had to go back and get it, adding an unexpected three hours to their journey (they were a mere hour from London). I do love them but boy, they drive slowly.

The same journey where we realised that a major component of our ceremony - the seating - was missing, and where in the interests of not being perceived as a mad bridezilla I gave the phone to J and let him sort it . And thus, what in a girl would be 'mad bridezilla' in a boy became 'assertive and no-nonsense'. Gender bias, eh? God that car ride was fraught.

And the cake. The wonderful delicious cake that arrived the day before... well, it wouldn't be putting too fine a point on it to say "totally smashed". Yes. The cake that we weren't going to have, that we eventually decided to spend £250 on, and ended up spending £500 on, arrived largely destroyed. No one's fault - just a freak accident in the heat. And in the end, how it turned out fine.

I'm going to do all this and post the pics I can, but will try to make the posts useful, rather than just recaps. Things I learned, things that came in handy and things that we honestly could not have given a shit about on the day. Because then perhaps they will come in useful for you too.

I do feel a little sad that I haven't done this sooner but what with anticipating the photos going online for some time now, and holding off, and then having life hijacked by the move to Glasgow, my lovely 'wallowing in the wedding' time has been curtailed.

Realistically, I'll be making the next post from Glasgow. Eek.

the bloset

2011-10-17T16:36:00.001-07:00

Or - the 'blogging closet'. In other words, the thing I'm going to need to emerge from this week. I think it's fair to say (without giving too much away) that this is the week that I wave bye bye to blogging anonymity. I know that most of you that read this know who I am now, in some capacity at least.

But I've been justifiably careful for a few reasons. One is my job. I work in the sort of line of work where people stumble across blogs. It wouldn't have taken a rocket scientist to work out that Claire of cakes and bunting was that Claire they knew, who was also getting married on a farm in Somerset. Secondly, J works in the line of work where it wouldn't do to have your fiance/wife wittering on about you (and I've been very careful not to). And thirdly - and really, tying in to the first two - is that I've laid myself rather bare on here. I've said what I think, said what I'm worried about, and written in a way that I could not have done if I'd been aware that friends would read it. Even J has promised he never will read it, though I may ask him to write something soon.

Blogging was good preparation, in a way, for the wedding. Helping me to understand how to behave and react and how to process things. It gave me the confidence to create a day in which we took away all the things we thought were irrelevant for us and just left the meaningful parts - and the most fun parts.

And the fact is that these things, and our wedding, were different to the norm. Maybe not the bloggy norm, where getting married in a golf club is waay retro trad (I'm awaiting the first ironic hipster '1991 themed wedding'). We had some of the things that are beyond traditional in blogland. Miles of bunting. Miles of it. Top quality, mum-produced stuff. A hogroast. But it was still different to any wedding I'd ever been to and I know it was the same for most of our guests.

In doing it differently, we laid ourselves open to criticism - you take the protective layer off the top and it's easy for someone to rub salt in. We were incredibly lucky that this didn't happen and that everyone there embraced it, enjoyed it for what it was.

And it's been the same with the blog. I removed a layer of cynicism and censorship and wrote, with some careful omissions for privacy's sake, what I wanted. Anonymity has allowed me to be much more open than I could have been otherwise.

And in doing this, I've found a support network that has helped me through difficult decisions and stupid ones. I've had help developing a great sense of perspective and a healthy wedding BS filter. I've also (groan) genuinely grown as a person through the wedding experience, and blogging has been an integral part of this. And I've even made friends. Actual real friends through the internet. God bless you, Tim Berners-Lee.

So I think this might be my last anonymous post. One day soon, you'll get to read a blog post broken up by pictures, rather than just my usual long ranty streams of text. I'll maybe finally tell you what I made, how I made things (if you care) and all sorts of stuff that I'd decided previously made me too identifiable. Ultimately, I had a blast and it was (whisper it) - kinda easy, mostly. Because we only did the important stuff. Plus a bit of bunting.

But first, there will probably be some pictures. Brace yourselves.

dear wedding bloggers: carry on, nothing to see here

2011-10-14T06:43:00.000-07:00

If you read wedding blogs, or you're on Twitter, then you'll probably have seen this over the past couple of days.

It's a post by an anonymous photographer about how, in a nutshell, wedding blogs and their detail-orientation bias are stressing out brides and making them feel inferior. It's a plea for more of a focus on 'normal' weddings. And by that, they mean ones that are plainer.

I don't know if anyone has noticed this (the photographer perhaps hasn't) but actually, there are already blogs that feature weddings from the entire spectrum - from four people in a register office (or for our American friends, the courthouse) with no moustaches on sticks to ginormous traditional weddings with 500 people. From plain to elaborate. From handmade to out-of-the-box. And yes, some of them have had mason jars and bunting. Trends come, trends go. People like trends because they are exposed to them.

Of course, some blogs only feature thin, model-like brides. C'est la vie. Or rather, c'est la media in general. But if that's all you can find then you're not looking hard enough. I've seen weddings featuring people of all religions and no religion. Of all shapes, sizes and colours. In this wonderful world of acceptance, I've read about Pagan weddings, elopements, weddings that happened on the spur of the moment, second weddings, weddings abroad, weddings on farms, weddings in back gardens. Every single one of these has been celebrated.

Look at A Practical Wedding, Offbeat Bride, Any Other Wedding, Love My Dress and so many more (and people are setting them up as we speak) - and if you check out the comments on these blogs, you will find they link to personal blogs from thousands of brides (and some grooms too) who run their own corner of the internet, mulling these issues daily.

They curate their own idea of what's important, and if they care to do so, they can define what they find attractive. They can control the pretty, redefine it and call bullshit.

Blogs - in all their guises, whether they focus on the pretty, the dress, the groom, whatever - are what has given the confident voices to all of these women (and men). Blogs and the blogging world reinforces the idea that they can make up their own rules, and they can do whatever the hell they like for their wedding. Remember - just a few short years ago, all weddings largely looked one way. That they now very much do not all look one way - despite the fashion for mason jars and dressing up boxes, these sort of weddings are still a minority - is because of the popularity of the blog and the confidence it has given people.

(If you want to see how things have changed in three short years, its worth reading a little about Rock n Roll Bride's own wedding, as she explains how different the options available were in 2008.)

People who get stressed out because their wedding is "too plain" would find something to get stressed out about if there were no blogs. Because some people are just like that.

In short. Bloggers: as you were. Keep up the good work, team.

the anticipation

2011-10-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

In my bag is a CD of images from our wedding. The official wedding photos. I haven't looked at them, immense restraint that not doing so required. We will look at them together tonight.

But today, over lunch, I had a look at a few wedding blogs. Only the non-insane ones, I hasten to add. But I devoured them in the way that I have done so many times. Scrolling, scrolling, inhaling it all. All that effort, reflected in those few pictures.

The details, the banners, the bunting, the dresses. The dancing, the thin-ness, the bridesmaids, the flowers. The getting ready pics. The dress hanging by the window. This is how I digested every wedding I ever looked at on the internet. This is how I got a 'feeling' of their day, and interpreted it in the light of our own. Every one changed the view of our wedding, in a tiny way.

Now tonight, I will look at some more wedding photos. And I know that they will be amazing, because that's our photographer. She is amazing. But the content of the images will be our own, and that bride in that one dress, with her groom and her flowers, will be me. How will I feel? How will I judge it?

moving

2011-10-05T14:46:00.001-07:00

(Picture from here)

On Sunday, some friends came for tea. Afterwards, I found myself giving driving directions to a friend heading back to south-east London. "Oh," I said nonchalantly, "you'll want to get to Hammersmith and drop down through Earls Court and cross the river at Vauxhall. Definitely quickest at this time on a Sunday."

Well, I thought, shocked: my Dad would be proud to know that I inherited this trait from him - of having a map in your head, and reeling off routes. Do all Dads do this? I think maybe they do.

But what I thought too, was - my god. I finally know this city, with its coloured lines under your feet, its hidden rivers and stinkpipes. I know its arteries and veins. I know how to get to somewhere, and how to get from somewhere, and that sometimes, depending on the time or the weather, these will be two different routes.

When I see a bus with a destination on the front, I know roughly where it's headed. I know that if I sat on that bus, I could get home. Routes light up in my head like a landing strip, a dotted line leading to where I need to be. The a40, the a4, the a406.

When someone tells me something about Acton, or Peckham, or Dulwich, or Park Royal, I know what they mean. I know where I shouldn't walk alone at night and where the tube map cheats tourists who pay £4 to ride 500 yards. I can stand in Soho and just know which way to turn, even though it all looks the same. I can reassure my parents repeatedly that Soho isn't full of prostitutes in windows, but after six years, they'll still worry.

I know precisely where to go for not just any curry, but the best. Ditto Thai, Japanese, Iranian, Ethiopian, Lebanese, Polish and god, even British food. I know where to take parents, friends, people new to town.

I know the brilliance of driving through London at a quiet time. Between Christmas and New Year, joining the dots in the dark between the Houses of Parliament and Piccadilly Circus and gazing up afresh at the big flashing sign. Turning a corner and seeing a landmark, any of them. I still feel a humpback bridge whoosh of excitement when crossing the river. I've never bought anything from Harrods. But that doesn't stop me, sometimes, on a winter's night, getting off the Tube at Knightsbridge, bundled up in my scarf, just to look at the lights.

I've sat in baking, baking traffic to reach a large patch of green, where I've jumped into my bathers and leapt into an icy pond. I've had an engagement picnic on the Heath. I still get lost, on occasion. I can hail a cab like I've done it all my life and no one would guess I'm a girl from the Midlands. I know places where you'll never get a cab for a million pounds, but I know which street to cross to find a thousand of them.

I know where my local underground river flows. I know what was there before that block of flats. I know the little secrets of my parts of town.

And today, I bought an old map of our area from a local antique bookshop, to hang on our new wall. A present for J, who loves maps and was looking at it longingly the other day. And as I paid, a book flashed at me from a stack on the till. It had a cover criss-crossed with red and white stripes, tartan. It was called 'The Clans of Scotland'.

It really struck me that I'll be living in another country, rather imminently now. I have no idea what a clan is. Maybe no one gives a toss. Maybe it's something you're just meant to know. Or maybe any Scots reading this think I'm a dick for talking about clans. Who knows. I'll soon find out.

Right now, there's just a gap where Glasgow should be. I've never even seen it. So very soon, I'll have to know nothing and start again.

I won't know what topics of national discussion cause seething resentment until I've put my foot in it, probably a few times.

I won't know what it means when someone tells me they are from Lumloch or Glenboig, or how I should get back if I accidentally found myself in Nerston.

I am lucky that through this blog, I seem to have found a disproportionately high number of wonderful people in the vicinity. I hope they can tell us where to get a curry and find a fish and chip shop that sells mushy peas.

We'll start again with the street we end up living in. We'll find our feet in the flat, then venture out to find the local, and then realise, perhaps a year later, that there's a much nicer pub two minutes round the corner, if only we'd known to look.

We'll slowly learn which newsagent sells out of the good papers by 11am. We'll work out a route to the airport to collect friends and family, but even with the help of two satnavs and a map, it may well involve traffic and/or bickering.

We'll find a supermarket. This will be very much like any other Asda, Sainsburys or Tesco in the country - except there will be some crucial differences which mean I won't be able to find the noodles.

Just as I've got my head around the sociological implications of the North/South divide, and where exactly the East Midlands sits in that binary system (it's North, incidentally) no one is likely to note or care that I still said bus, rather than bahs, or grass, rather than grahse.

I've allowed myself to feel what I've been ignoring, and London is starting to feel alien. The masses, masses of people. The skyline. When my parents last visited, as we crossed the a40 above Edgeware Road, my mum looked up and said: "the sky is just so... full... you can only see buildings..." and for a second, I saw it too.

When we drove back in the dark, past the floating illuminated mass of Westfield, I felt like I was seeing it for the first time. How did you possibly reach that? How does one get into that big green iceberg? How does it make sense? Like landing in a foreign country and trying to work out the nuances of catching a train.

When I stepped off the bus yesterday, I looked at up at the people who got off with me, rather than just ploughing on and ignoring them (the London way). How could all these people be getting onto one tube train? There were thousands of them.

London, you've been great fun. I should think I'll always remember what you taught me. Hopefully if I can cope with the Northern line in 30 degree heat (ok, I didn't cope, it made me cry the first three times, but THEN I coped) then, Glasgow, I can deal with your subway and buses. I might get used to it, even. I might find I'm home. Maybe we'll be back one day. Hopefully the good takeaways won't have changed.

humbled

2011-10-04T03:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there are things that come along like a smack in the face and make you understand a lot more about life in one fell swoop.

Sometimes, those things make you embarrassed about your previous thoughts and behaviour.

This is one of those things. This blog, written by an engaged lady with terminal cancer.

http://poppiesandepiphanies.blogspot.com/

Please go and visit.

sad

2011-09-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

So the wedding was amazing. Incredible. So full of love, just...amazing.

But then I had to do something that made me sad. Even as I was doing it, it made me sad. And it made J sad, which made me sadder.

I looked at the first photos of the wedding, just a couple of days later. My first thought was: "wow, those flowers are great." My second thought, almost concurrent with the first was: "I'm not thin enough". I hated myself for thinking it. But I couldn't stop. I'd wanted to look thin, willowy. I'd wanted to look like someone J could pick up and spin around. I'd wanted to look like this:

(picture of the Sarah Seven dress I originally fell in love with, from here)

It's not like I didn't know what size I was before the wedding. But I'd just thought: "There's nothing I can do about this. Push it out of your mind." And I did.

I said this to J and he was upset. He said I was the most beautiful woman in the world, and that day, he thought I looked just incredible. And he said to stop saying otherwise, because it was upsetting for him to hear it.

But it's like a scab. A horrible suppurating scab that you can't stop picking at.

Last night, I went to slimming club. I got weighed, and I hadn't gained too much on honeymoon. But I did a recap of how much I'd lost before the wedding.

In the past year, from my current weight with honeymoon gain, I've lost 6lbs. This year, after gaining 7lbs at Christmas, I lost a stone (half of it the 7lbs from Christmas) before I had to start maintaining in June. I lose slowly because I go out and see friends. I've always known why I lose slowly. But I tell myself - trying a bit harder, turning down a few drinks. I could have been half a stone lighter or more.

I was disappointed with myself. My BMI when we got married was 'obese'. I hated myself for not trying harder, for still having that appalling label attached to me, which upsets me so much. Four lbs lower and I'd have been merely 'overweight'.

I wanted the way I looked on my wedding day to be something I could own and feel proud of. To be something like the way I might look for the rest of my life. I still want that, if I can just stop thinking like this. You don't need to tell me that there are more important things in life than half a stone on your wedding day. I know. I get it. But I still felt like I'd let myself down.

J tells me that no one cares about my weight, I looked gorgeous and that's what people see. A happy, beautiful girl. He said I looked thin.

I hate myself for picking this scab and upsetting myself and J.

I wish I could say 'I looked amazing, I looked like me'. J says I looked like me. I say: "I don't know what I look like, or what I'm meant to look like. So how can I know?"

Has anyone ever said they felt truly gorgeous? Why can't I just own it? I hate myself for making us both sad over this when the wedding was pure happiness.

whew

2011-09-26T05:28:00.000-07:00

Well, dear reader, it's been more than a month since my last post. In that time, I've got married, traveled to the furthest reaches of the British Isles for a honeymoon in the Outer Hebrides, and today, returned to work with an extra ring on my finger and a desperate desire to check Facebook for new photographs of the wedding every five minutes.

There will be recaps, I'm sure of it. But it's quite hard to digest everything now, or to know where to start. I just received the 'taster tape' from the videographers (oh yes, we had them in the end - an interesting story) and it made me feel nervous and gave me butterflies in a way that I never felt on the day.

So what do I tell you in this post, while I collect my thoughts? I think I can tell you that the wedding was better than I ever thought it could be. People seemed to have an amazing time. Everything went well - and the one thing that didn't initially look like going too well (a rather destroyed wedding cake) eventually turned out fine. And I wouldn't have cared either way.

Everyone arrived safe, had a ball, and got home safely. The details were ultimately, quite important - but they weren't flippantly decorative - everything had a meaning to us. Our friends were amazing, our families were amazing. The venue, the suppliers - everyone - was amazing. I'm sorry if this makes boring reading, but this is a topline view. The details are interesting, I promise.

But in order to tell you about some of the details, I'm going to have to come out of the blogging closet, as it were. The bloset. I don't see that I can do this without posting pictures of myself up here, or pictures that would identify the wedding and ourselves. So I'll be doing that. But understandably, because there are some things written about here that aren't yet fully public, I can't do it just yet. So there might be some posts about 'feelings' before there are posts about pretties. I hope you can forgive me.

Oh and an interesting one. Before the wedding, those of you who follow me on Twitter might have seen an attempt at being amusing with the hashtag #atw - or 'after the wedding', where I talked about the daft things I would no longer be doing in the days following the wedding. What I did not anticipate doing two days after the wedding, was sitting on a desolate beach on Skye, bawling my eyes out with the most intense sadness for the wedding that was over. I'd heard about the post-wedding blue. I never thought I'd get them. But in the end, the wedding got me good and proper. I've never been as in love with a day as I was then.

the makers

2011-08-19T05:42:00.000-07:00

People talk a lot about 'handmade' weddings. Rustic, vintagey things that have, in the year and a half that J and I have been engaged, almost become a wedding cliche in themselves. That's what our wedding will look like. Lots of things will be handmade. I think it's lovely. The invitations were handmade, and I am so very very lucky that the dress will be too.

I'm also very lucky in that handmade is just the normal way of things for many people in my life. It's the way things were when I grew up, and for J too. The major 'makers' in our life are our parents.

So this post is for the makers of things that will make the wedding. They won't read it, but it's a thank you to them, for every time I've made an enquiry, asking 'i was just wondering...how easy would it be to do x y z?' they have just gone away, done it before we even knew it, or just surprised us with things and been totally amazing.

I didn't think this would be the case at all. I didn't think I knew enough crafty people. What a fool not to think that our parents are the original crafters. They are amazing.

My mum

My mum and dad make things. They just can, and do, and always have. When I asked mum if she could make some bunting (I can do it, but she has the sewing machine), within a week she had sent over seven samples for various bunting designs that she had just dashed off. Now, we have 70+metres of bunting in two sizes (for two locations) which has been sitting in an airtight bag, fully pressed for four months.

I suggested we fill some activity bags for children. I found the bags online, discussed it with her. She declared the bags for sale online rubbish and proceeded to procure age-appropriate fabrics for all children in attendance (including some Paddington Bear fabric, found in a charity shop as a former pair of curtains) and make and fill all the bags. She'd done two before she even told me. I also asked if she (and J's mum, see below) would help me make jam and chutney for favours. She is an avid jam and chutney maker anyway. She has produced 35 jars. I fully anticipated about 10 from her and making about 50 myself. This is now totally unnecessary.

My dad

My dad is a rare breed indeed. He has always been able to make and fix anything, and I mean really make, really fix. He fits kitchens, mends cars, turns wood, does everything. So I asked him if he could knock together a quick box. I was thinking four sides, a base, that's it. Just for the guest book postcards on the night, something to drop them into. I know he could do that in half an hour.

He has produced an oak chest, with beautiful vintage style hinges (which he made HIMSELF - my tiny mind boggles at this) and an engraved plaque on the front, with both our names, the date of the wedding and the name of the farm. Wow. Just...wow. I should add that he made it in about three days in the evenings after work. It is incredible.

I also asked him if he could cut some little blocks of wood with slits in, just to hold table numbers. Instead, he sent me a photo of some bent-wire heart-shaped table number holders that he'd just 'knocked together'. He'd seen the wire heart we're using to hold the table plan and just copied it in table number holder form. He asked if I liked the photo of one he'd made and texted over and by the end of the day, he'd made 12 and sprayed them cream to match the table plan heart thing (which I just stumbled across in a gift shop). I need to do one of those 'surprised smiley' face things here. WOW.

J's mum

Just after we got engaged, J's mum asked us: "What colours do you like in the bedroom?"

Erm... OK. We thought she was maybe upholstering us a chair (her big hobby, restoring antique chairs). We said blue and cream. She asked for specifics. OK: St Pancras Blue. She wouldn't divulge any more.

At a pre-wedding lunch she threw for us (really, for all the oldies that can't make the wedding itself), we were presented with a large, tissue-wrapped parcel. Inside, was the most incredible blue and white quilt, onto which she had sewn all of our favourite things. There were swimmers (for we are avid swimmers, famous in J's family for our love of wild swimming) and buttons and blue and cream and embroidered words: bake, film, swim, and hillariously, 'his car'. (J loves is knackered, 16-year-old VW Polo) and more.

And on the back is embroidered a large heart, with our names, initials and the date of the wedding. And in the corner, on the back, a screenprint of our invitation.

Of course, the quilt won't be there on the day. But it will be with us forever.

J's mum has also made about 50 jars or assorted jams and chutneys using the glut of produce from her allotment (again, she does this every year - averaging around 200 jars by autumn). And when I told her that we had to buy natural petals for confetti, she looked thoughtful. The next time we visited, she showed me a carrier bag of petals that she had assiduously saved and dried. Now she has enlisted the help of the flower grower on the next allotment, her own garden and bunches of flowers in the house and is onto her third carrier bag.

Friends have also been makers. One friend and best lady arrived at the hen do with the most divine decorations - string balls on a garland, mini bunting, pom poms. Where had she got these amazing things? Oh, she said, I just made them. She has been teaching me how to make giant pom poms. She is the queen of the pom.

And there have been other makers too - ones we have paid. My earrings are handmade by this wonderful lady, Angela Evans, who has also made the presents for both mums. Some best ladies' presents are vintage necklaces. Other are from independent designers like Joanna Rutter. But there will be a fuller run down of all of these things after the event.

I never dreamed that we would be so inundated with wonderful things. People have created heirlooms for us. I think team C&J's parents could be hired out for weddings.

where we're at

2011-08-18T05:46:00.000-07:00

So, we leave to get married two weeks tomorrow. I thought you might like an update on where we are at.

The moolah

Is almost gone. It's a shocker, to look at how much we've spent, even though we did it with full knowledge and awareness. We were both getting a little tense about it last night. We have gone over our budget by some, but not much (and that includes honeymoon and rings).

It's been shocking to see that much money leave our account, but the big realisation last night was that this was why we had the money in the first place. Some was ours, some was so kindly gifted from parents. The money would not have existed without the wedding. They didn't give it us to look at. We just need to do them proud with it.

We haven't wasted money anywhere, of that I am sure. OK, well, maybe I've wasted £20 on an excess of tissue paper. But that's it. We wanted (well, needed) a budget wedding, and we have one .

The people remaining to pay are simply the venue, the florist and the minibuses. Absolutely everything else is paid for. It's a nice feeling. Not the skintness, but the almost-done-ness.

The attire

The dress is yet to arrive. It's a little late, but not unduly (6-8 weeks was the given timeframe - we're now at 8.5 and it'll be 9.5 when it arrives). Let's hope it fits! A dressmaker is on standby...

I have shoes, but no pants. No necklace either - until the dress arrives.

J's suit is purchased. In fact, he has two of them. He was between sizes, so bought the larger, then decided to lose a few lbs (he is by no means overweight) and then bought the second. Now we just need to take the larger one back

The weight

Is relatively stable at around 3.5 stones lost. I am now a size 14-16 - down from a 22-24. I'm quite tall at 5 foot 8/9 so I hope I wear it well.

This maintaining thing is going OK. However, the lack of exercise is apparent - I tried on dress #1 (for the register office) and it was rather tight over that all important stomach and arse section. So it's true what they say about inches and pounds. Sometimes the inches go (or come back) and the pounds stay the same. So I'm dropping about another 4lbs, which should do it, and going running and (urgh) spinning.

The printing

Holy heck. The amount of printing that is required is quite astonishing. And because we don't have a printer, this involves us coming into my office and, ahem, making use of the facilities (with my boss's blessing) to print out music quizzes, programmes for the day, signs, ceremonies, postcards, poems, blah, blah.

How hard is it to print out a double sided folding thing with all the text in the right place and some sense of design? Very hard, that's how. I am thinking that after this is all done, I will happily share these files with anyone else to amend and use if it saves even one person the hell of trying to move text boxes outwards in a symmetrical fashion so that you don't print it out and realise it looks ugly as sin.

The ceremony

Is written, in a version we can embrace. The vows are as yet unwritten, but we will do them this weekend. I'm thinking a 150 word limit each will be good. We're going to write them separately and then come together and discuss them. No surprises on the day.

The decoration

Some pom poms are made. But there aren't enough layers in some so I need to make some more. My mum has made miles of bunting and I have a glue gun and lots of buttons for glueing on things (oh, yes, the invitations had buttons glued on them. Post-wedding, I shall show you all these things, when my anonymity has gone out of the window anyway!) It's a theme I've decided we'll continue. Not least because I still have about 300 vintage buttons leftover which I'm not sure I'll find another use for any time soon. We've got a heart shaped box we can stick some onto, and they're going to go onto all the 'programmes' (sounds stupid but not sure what else to call them) too.

Readings and poems

Hard as hell to settle on. We've decided on two for the ceremony, two in the 'programme' and then loads pinned up on a line with photos of all our friends (J's idea). DO NOT start looking for new poems at this stage.

What else do i have to to tell you? What else do I need to do? What might I have forgotten?

two and a half weeks before the wedding...

2011-08-16T07:16:00.000-07:00

...is no time to discover wedding inspiration. And yes, J, though you never read this blog, I am talking to you.

I sent J a photo: hey, look, these people are doing something similar to us (pegging photos up on a line, guestbook postcards) - doesn't it look cool? And he says (and this is a direct quote):

"Hey – wonder if we could go to a car boot sale and buy a stack of ancient postcards for people to write on and peg up...?"

ARRRGGGH!

To which I answered: this is exactly the sort of thing I tried to talk to you about six months ago, when we would have time to visit the 20-40 different car boot sales we would have needed to find exactly that. Not two and a half weeks before.

Someone buy that man a copy of Cosmo Bride, pronto.

t minus three weeks

2011-08-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

Some element of calm has descended over the past 48 hours. Slowly, very slowly, things are falling into place. About two weeks ago, the amount of admin that needed doing, coupled with the logistics of a move to Glasgow in three months’ time (with one of those months almost entirely spent away on honeymoon) made me feel actually sick on a very regular basis.

But as of now, things are being ticked off. Every night we sit down and look at the list and JFDI, as much as we can, before we collapse into bed. I can envisage a time when we’ve actually turned the entire to-do list green (the green highlighter pen function = a very visible DONE). I am still sans dress, but hope that will be here too next week. Then once I have a necklace, my attire is DONE. Most people are paid (apart from the band, the flower lady and, uh, the venue) and the bank account is close to blissful peace once again.

My plan of having August to relax has not worked thus far, but we might get a week to relax before the wedding and that would be OK. As long as work doesn’t get in the way – and I’m determined not to spend the week before the wedding on 14 hour days. It’s not healthy.

There are things I have to blog about that are less boring than this (because really, this is a pretty boring time – I’m ticking things off a list for christssake. No more time for beautiful pictures as our decisions are MADE.)

For example: I have to tell you about the wedding quilt my mother-in-law spent a year and a half making for us, covered with all of our favourite things. I have to tell you about bridesmaid gifts and the politics of it. I have to tell you about the gifts for the mums which I bloody love, and the logistics of trying to work out how to manicure and make up eight people in four hours and how we got around it.

I have to tell you about writing a ceremony and vows and about how much booze you need for one of these things (a fuck-lot, really. LOADS.) I have to tell you about the wooden chest my dad has made by hand, along with all the table number holders which are incredible, really. About the four carrier bags of petals my mother in law, off her own back, decided she would dry to make confetti – and her jam making prowess. About the 80m of bunting and 50 jars of jam/chutney perfectly fashioned by my mum, and about how I became the type of bride who goes from ‘we won’t have a cake’ to spending £500 on a cake and feeling excited about it.

But for now, you’ll have to imagine all of the above, for I have a to-do list to tick.

on bailing out #2

2011-07-22T06:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, however, bailing out is for the best.

I received a letter this week - a card in a pink envelope with handwriting I recognised as that of my oldest friend, L.

I knew what was coming, but still held out hope that she’d just written me a nice letter (we do that for each other, sometimes).

Inside was an explanation of why her depression meant she could not come to the wedding. She had been unsure a while ago, because of costs. Her job is insecure. She’s just bought a house. But then she worked it out and decided to come.

But then the big D struck – worse than it ever has before. When getting out of bed and going to work in the morning seems like an impossible task, then getting in the car, driving three hours to a wedding and standing around, eating and drinking with lots of strangers, is unfeasible. Coupled with the money worries which hadn’t gone away, the idea was terrifying her.

The letter was very teary, asking me if I could ever forgive her. Clearly it had been a huge trial even to pick up the pen.

So when I called her and said that of course this was OK and reassured her that I wasn’t going to shout at her for ruining the wedding or demand she attend (seriously, would anyone do that?) she just said it had been a huge relief to make the decision. I impressed upon her that retiring from life was not a good idea but supported her need to do whatever required to recover. I just want her to be OK.

The invitation is open for another week before we have to give figures, so she’s got a chance to change her mind, though by her own admission, she may just turn up on the day, not eat anything and drive back if she wants to come. She’s impulsive when she wants to be.

But really, all I feel is relieved on her behalf. A tactical bailout that I hope will pay off for her.

on bailing out #1

2011-07-22T06:27:00.000-07:00

Two bail outs in the past two weeks. Coupled with the bail out from the friend doing the photography a few months ago (which happily, ended brilliantly), this makes three.

The first of the most recent bailings you might know about if you follow me on Twitter. The hair and make-up lady that I had booked, following much research almost a year ago, suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth her time. Luckily (for her) I don’t believe that it’s right to name and shame. But after what happened, I was sorely tempted.

I wish I could put it a better way, but after much thought, it really did seem to be that I wasn’t paying enough –she clearly had a better offer from someone with deep pockets.

When I booked, it took me a couple of weeks to make a decision on whether to go ahead because of the small matter of a budget. I mentioned this – and she said we could make it work. She also emailed me a couple of times every week to ask how I was getting on; was there anything she could do to help? She assured me I was doing the right thing.

In the end, I was won over. She seemed amazing. The total cost (because I really wish someone had talked costs with me earlier on) was going to be £50 for a trial, and £180 for hair and make-up on the day. So £230. Plus travel costs – about £40. Not the cheapest – but she seemed so good, and I decided that this would be a real treat – for a girl who barely wears make up and never does anything with her hair (ie. me). But it was RIGHT AT THE TOP of what I could afford. I was shocked at the price, but assumed it was the going rate.

Until last Friday, it was all going well. We were planning a trial and sorting out a date. Then she said she was concerned. Was it just me having my make up and hair done? Well, yes, I said: it was. I’d said it might be from the start. I’d even filled in a form in January that listed just me, no one else. With each bridesmaid an extra £55 for make up ONLY and five best ladies, it was just a huge stretch.

Well, she said, she’d DEFINITELY told me that she didn’t come out just to do the bride. And she had a £400 minimum booking fee.

Woah. That was a punch to the gut. And seven weeks before the wedding. Not nice.

Hmm. How to resolve this? This is not a conversation I remember having. She certainly asked if there was anyone else in the party and I said I’d check. She never said I’d lose the booking if there wasn’t, or I’d have never booked. Red flags would have popped up all over the place. I’m no dumb bride. And then I'd filled in the form with no one else - and no queries.

Also, I’d suggest that something so vital to the process should not be in an ‘I’m sure I told you this phone call’ but WRITTEN DOWN from the very beginning so that everyone is clear. But no – there’s no mention of it. No T&Cs, nothing on the website. Nothing at all, in fact.

Luckily, I get my deposit back (perhaps recognition on her part that this could have been HER screw up, rather than mine). And it’s worked out for the best. It seems that my gut instinct was right all along. She was rather pricey. And I have now several people who can do a great job, for a little fairer price. And best of all, I feel that maybe I can rely on them, this time...

my best ladies

2011-07-14T05:35:00.000-07:00

(source)

First of all, I wasn’t having bridesmaids. Then, I realised that I would have no one to get ready with, no one to drink champagne with, have a little cry with beforehand. Or no one official at least. And I have some great friends.

But at the same time – I really didn’t want to impose on them, to make them feel like they had to do things that might bore them, stress out over dresses or fulfil some list of duties**. But I might want to ask them the odd favour. They’d have helped out, official recognition or not – I have no doubt. But it’s nice to recognise people who go out of their way to help you. (**NOT that I’m saying that’s what all bridesmaids feel. I’m sure it’ s not. But the term was still too formal for us.)

So what I have is ‘best ladies’. I asked six friends, and one declined – she has confidence issues and depression, but is the most wonderful friend, but the thought of performing any sort of role made her anxious. So – five. Picked because they are wonderful, honest, loyal, kind, helpful, creative and have a great eye for detail. One of them, for my birthday just after we got engaged, bought me a packet of floral pegs which she gave to me with such excitement, certain that they would be perfect for the wedding. And she was right. I’ve never been as happy with a packet of pegs.

These ladies can wear what they like, but somehow realised that most of them already owned a green dress, and that they might wear them together. One is still searching for one, so that might happen. But I truly don’t care if it doesn’t. They all have the offer of a corsage or a flower for their hair and have accepted with glee.

They threw me the most amazing hen weekend (which now I think perhaps I will blog about after all) and one lady revealed a hitherto unsuspected ability for making pom poms and other papercraft. Now I have a bag full of tissue paper to take to her house tomorrow for some hours making poms and drinking, and perhaps barbecuing in the rain.

One BL is taking the cake the venue – three hours out of London, and she’s pretty scared that she might either drop or eat it. But it’ll be fine, I know it. Then on the morning, we’ll be fluffing up some poms, stringing bunting and possibly already drinking something fizzy. They will go to the ceremony location ahead of time and cover the trees with decorations and lay out order of services. Then they will carry on being some of the finest ladies on the planet, getting drunk and dancing their backsides off. And I will thank them from the bottom of their beautiful hearts.

some details, or the start of them

2011-07-14T05:26:00.000-07:00

So I wonder how much I’ve actually said about the wedding on here. All the way through, I’ve been fiercely protective of my privacy for various reasons, and so have shunned anything that might have identified me to any potential-reader-that-also-knew-me-in-real-life types.

But you know what. Seven weeks to go, I’m less worried. I’m still anonymous on here, but as I meet more people who have emailed me to say hi, and read more blogs from friends, I am less worried about someone ‘finding me out’. It’s not like I say anything appalling, ever – or I seriously try not to.

I still won’t be giving the location of the ceremony on here but other details – well, they might be interesting to you, if you’re interested in non-traditional weddings. Though I think I’ve ticked every ‘bloggy cliche’ box going, becoming ‘traditional’ in another way – yeah, I am making pom poms this weekend with a best lady. I love pom poms. We all sit in one box or another.

So I’m going to start blogging some of the things that are occupying my mind in the run up, maybe things we’ve done differently. Starting with the best ladies. NOT bridesmaids. Best ladies. Coming up...

doing it is easy

2011-07-14T05:25:00.000-07:00

Yep, you heard me. Doing this wedding shit is easy. Need some place name tags? Bish bash bosh. Bought ‘em. Need to book a train to take us to our honeymoon. One phonecall. Five minutes. Easy.

But you know what’s hard? THINKING about it. And I do this, hmm, perhaps for something between two and 10 hours on an average day.

“Oh my god. Where am I going to get name tags? Shit, these name tags on Etsy cost a freaking fortune. Oh god. Oh look, here are some cheap ones. Buy them, quick. Name tags arrive. Stare at them. Realise they are cheap and ugly. Think about name tags. Think about name tags. Think about name tags. Realise John Lewis sell name tags following a tip from a friend. Ask J about name tags. Then order the sodding name tags. Name tags don’t arrive. Where are name tags? Should I email John Lewis? Oh look, name tags arrived. Of course they did. Are they good enough? Should I stick buttons on them (oh, FYI, our invitations had buttons glue-gunned onto them by my fair hand).”

Let’s just think about this for a minute. We still have half a honeymoon to do. We have only a rudimentary budget. We have still to pay most of our suppliers. My dress is due to arrive in three or four weeks. One best lady is still dress-less and is about to go to Canada for almost a month. The wedding is seven weeks tomorrow.

So, let’s think about this for a minute. Or...let’s not...

the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow

2011-07-01T06:35:00.000-07:00

...or a piece of string. That is to say: I need a formula for the unformulatable.

Given a warm-ish (please, weather gods) day and the unrestricted supply of alcohol, plus the distraction of some outdoor games and the occasional break for a photograph how much wine and beer can approximately 80 adults consume over a period of two hours?

I could think of this as:

D/12 (2 hours being one twelfth of a day, natch) + A – (G x px) x 80

I mean. I could think of it like that. It was fun to write it down. But it's not going to help me when I'm staring at crates of Peroni in Majestic. Can anyone help?

double yoo tee eff

2011-07-01T06:25:00.000-07:00

Why is it that as the wedding gets closer there is an direct correlation with the busyness in other areas of life. Namely: WORK.

The longer the to-do list for the wedding, the later you stay at work, the more meetings are in the diary. Then over the summer, it seems that there's always someone off in the office, on their hols, which impacts on everyone else's work. Just one of those things of course, but I'm really feeling it this year.

This has happened to of my recently wed friends too. One of whom was bashing through 8pm meetings the week before she left to get married. I don't think I'm far off.

My job has got insane, insane, insane, and just at the point where the wedding to do list is starting to make me panic. I had a friend working until 11.30pm in the weeks before her wedding. I can see that happening to me too. It's great for the company but means that when you're at work, you're flat out, and then when you're at home, you're flat out too

We saw a friend last night who asked us how the wedding planning was going. And I drunkenly poured out some ridiculous list of everything we have to do. And he said 'sounds like you're getting through it'. And i replied: no. We are not. If we were getting through it, i wouldn't be panicking to you right now. We'd be talking about something more interesting.

And so that's why the I need to get through it. For my friends' sake. I don't want to be become that bride to be who bores the shit out of everyone wittering about the cost of flowers.

a dizzy wedding

2011-07-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

I tried to do this a few days ago, but Blogger was broken. I tried to do it again yesterday, and Blogger was broken again. SIGH.

So this is my belated HAPPY WEDDING to the wonderful Dizzy Girl Dee, who has just celebrated her nuptials to IB (or Irish Boy, as it took me several months to work out).

Dee - I hope it was amazing! The sneaky peek photos (oh yes, I had my spies) looked amazing. You had that sort of Ready Brek glow going on and the most enormous grin.

Congrats beautiful!

the to do list

2011-06-15T16:02:00.000-07:00

Well, here's a rum thing. No matter how much time you have to organise a wedding, you simply cannot do some things further than a few weeks away. For some things, you simply need to know who is coming, when they are coming, and where they will stay. And of course, at this point, a deadline focuses the mind and you remember all the things you said you would do over the past few months - but forgot to.

And that is how, having been engaged for 15 months and with a wedding in 11 weeks (Holy. Crap.) I find that we have a to-do list that we've had to put onto Google Docs, break down into weekly targets and start ticking the hell off.

Every single day I remember something else we need to do. I then make a note on my phone and transfer it into the magic computing cloud as often as I can. Recent additions include:

Cushions for small children??? Will they reach the table?
Buy Port? Somerset Pomona? Does venue have the little glasses?
Blister plaster for slightly deformed toe (yeah, just the one toe is weird)
take IRON
Sparklers?????
Can J's brother connect amp outdoors using car batteries? Test his theory!
Find out the name of M's baby (J's friend) - boy or girl? Age in months? (* my mum is frantically making gift bags for all the children - she texts me daily on the progress and to request info like this. She needs this project after making 90+ metres of fully hemmed bunting, almost completing a handmade shawl for me and brewing 48 jars of jam/chutney. I should say, I merely asked if she could help with some bunting and some help with chutney. She has really run with it...)
List of songs for DJ to avoid in disco
shoes for dress number one - BUY

This is just SOME additions. There is a whole list which is untouched, into which these items must slot, which I am not even going into on here. Things like finding out the location of every single person who is staying at a hotel in order that we can inform the minibus company. And working out how we will transport family to the register office in the morning. Information sheets. Order of services (servii?). Table plans. Place cards. Buy confetti (first confirming the precise confetti requirements of the venue which are strict as it's an organic farm - very understandable, you can't toss the usual stuff where the sheep might eat it). The usual.

It's OK. I'm still calm. But there is a sense of having been lulled into a slight sense of security with the long engagement which means that actually having to do shit, and with a non-negotiable and now shockingly short time frame, comes as something of a surprise.

i need an old blue thing

2011-06-15T15:57:00.000-07:00

This whole 'something old...' thing has got me flummoxed. My mum mentioned it the other day, and I realised that while I might have a new dress, I don't yet have the rest of the boxes ticked. I need something old, something borrowed and something blue.

Ideally, someone I know would have an old blue thing i could borrow. But while there was, for a while, talk of my mum digging out her blue garter, it's been lost.

Do people still do this? It seems like a nice fun tradition to follow, and it will please my mum. To which I always say, if it will please your mum or any significant person you love and it's easy/painless, then you should just do it. Life's too short to antagonise.

Hmm. Maybe I should start asking my grandmas nicely...

becoming a bride redux - part 5

2011-06-15T14:46:00.000-07:00

Wow - no sooner had I posted what I thought would be the concluding part of our 'becoming a bride' mini-series, I had a message on Twitter from Brizzle Bride. Could she, perhaps, contribute? Of bloody course she could! This idea seems to have taken off - which i find rather pleasing. Perhaps for those of us blogging about our weddings and relationships, this idea is rather central to what we're doing by blogging in the first place. Or maybe that's just me. But well, whatever the reason - I'm pleased to have struck a chord somehow.

The Brizzle Bride lives in...well... Bristol, I assume, and is marrying her chap this summer. She's also making some lovely origami boats. Loads of them. She talks here about other people's stereotypes and expectations of tradition, and feeling bridal while breaking the 'rules'.

Take it away, BB...

It’s hard to put my finger on what that ‘bridal’ feeling is. However, the reaction I have had from other people would suggest that whatever it is, I’m not feeling it in the way that is expected of me.

For example, not being fazed by a ten month engagement raised a few eyebrows. Buying the first dress I saw and not taking anyone with me when I tried it on caused outrage!

Some people appear to see my ‘non-bridal’ attitude as not caring about the wedding. I like to think that my bridal feelings have just been focused in other directions, towards areas that are more important to me. For example...

I love the fact that our wedding has brought people together already. My sister and my closest friends, who didn’t know each other so well (one of them being the other side of the world), have become a little gang! We send each other silly things on Facebook like: ‘Who can find the ugliest male stripper’, bunting updates and pictures of ourselves in hideous bridesmaids dresses.

My creative side, after a couple of years of being stifled by academia, has suddenly resurfaced. And it’s been great! I’ve remembered how much I enjoy painting, crafting and sewing. And I know, on the day, we will feel really proud of all the little touches that we made ourselves.

That this is a real team effort between L and I. Yes, this has meant disagreements at times but it’s also meant compromises. The result being that I feel really happy that what we have planned is what we both want.

When we have been challenged on things we backed each other all the way. So apologies to all the parents but I’m afraid that yes, I will be wearing a short dress and Lee will still have a beard (ha!)

So there you go. A few examples of what I consider to be bridal behaviour, maybe just a little different from the norm.

What saddens me slightly is that I feel like I can’t talk about these aspects of my planning and excitement. There is a part of me that thinks other people only want to hear certain things, like moaning about how the budget has crept over twenty grand, that I tried on a hundred dresses before I found ‘the one’, or berating my other half for taking no interest. Perhaps if I did talk about this other side more it might challenge some people’s beliefs about what it is to be a
bride.

blogger fail

2011-06-15T14:11:00.000-07:00

Apologies to everyone who has tried to post a comment on my blog over the past few days. Blogger still seems to be on the blink and I know that a few of you have tried and been frustrated. All I can suggest is that if you possibly can, drop me a line via email or Twitter (details for both are on the right hand side) if you try to post and can't, just so I've got something to take to Blogger as evidence!

becoming a bride redux - part 4

2011-06-07T11:07:00.000-07:00

And so: what did I mean when I said I felt like a bride?

I think what I meant was that I could finally envisage myself being the one in the dress, surrounded by those I love, marrying the man I adore.

For me, it’s as simple as that.

I could imagine the day, with us in it, and felt excited by it. There’s suddenly a picture in my head and it’s no longer a composite of wedding magazine and blog-worthy pictures. It’s ours.

When I first felt it, things had come together. A proto-ceremony existed, as did a drawing of the dress. We had almost all our RSVPs back, so I could see who would be there. I can imagine myself in a beautiful dress which I am excited about wearing. My figure won’t now change substantially in the next fortnight, even if I miraculously lose the 6lbs I’m aiming for (I get measured and have to maintain my weight after Saturday...so...probably not) so I can sort of see how the dress might actually work.

I can imagine it, and enjoy the imagining. That’s it. That doesn’t mean I’m going around boring people shitless talking about the minutiae. I got my shoes last week (Rachel Simpson, Flo – thank Christ these people exist, that is all I’m going to say. Possibly more than 95 per cent of wedding shoes are FUGLY or an unwearable 9 inch stiletto. WHY? Rachel Simpson, I love you), and was surprised my colleagues wanted to see them. I hadn’t even opened the box in the three hours since its arrival.

Stuff is ticking away. And side from a very minor rant about the loss of a glue gun, which J felt the brunt of last week (HOW did we LOSE a glue gun? HOW?) things are largely done quietly. I want people to be surprised, not to know every detail right now.

I was really pleased to have the wisdom of the three ladies on the blog last week. Siobhan’s post made me realise how much I dislike the separation of ‘bride’ from ‘groom’. I intensely dislike the idea that the wedding is all about the petulance and whims of the bride – and the selfish implications that carries. Early on, a friend asked me if I was ‘in the white zone’. No one, I would venture, has ever asked that of J. They might ask him if I AM obsessing over table decorations (for the record, no – I’m easily pleased) but would never assume that he was. They assume he is at a distance, watching me with bemusement and maybe buying a suit and organising the band. Kind of sad, really.

And Lisa-Marie and Dee’s posts were important reminders of the ludicrousness of the concept that our every waking hour should be spent thinking about an identity that we will occupy for merely one day. You are a bride for a day. You are a wife for ever.
And so concludes (for now) our mini series on ‘becoming a bride’. Sincere thanks to Siobhan, Lisa Marie and Dee for their fantastic posts.

And to any of you reading this, thinking ‘well, I have something to say on the matter’ – please email me (the address is on the right) with your thoughts and we’ll make this an ongoing thing. Our experience of what it means to deal with the expectations of others are rich and varied, and to nosy folk like me at least, very interesting.

becoming a bride redux - part 3

2011-06-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

The third part of our series on what it means to 'become a bride' is from Siobhán. Siobhán recently got engaged, and it was her initial tweet asking how she could feel 'more bridal' in line with the expectations of those around her that prompted the discussion that triggered these posts.

Siobhán explains that for her, a sense of being 'bridal' is not something that can happen in isolation - there is no bride without a groom, and it's impossible for her to feel bridal without her other half.

Take it away, Siobhán...

"A few weeks ago I got engaged to the handsome, gorgeous kind and wonderful M. Since before anything happened I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and I am looking forward to that so much.

"I love being engaged to him and I really look forward to being married to him. In between those things we have a wedding, and I am going to be a bride.

"I never dreamt of weddings growing up, I did not think about getting married much and was pretty uninterested in babies as well to be honest. I thought getting to my twenties and living in an apartment and having my own phone would be grown up enough for me, so the whole 'bridal' thing has always passed me by.

"Last year one of my closest friends got married and she seemed... different. On the day it did seem like something had changed, she seemed somehow more adult, more finished and more content than I have ever seen her. It was incredible to see and brought me to tears, but was something I could not picture myself feeling or being.

"Today I went dress shopping for 'the dress' with my mother and sister. I went with pretty low expectations but when I tried on one dress, I felt something. I felt special, grown up, happy and wanted M there to share that feeling with. I think that might be the beginnings of feeling like a bride.

"I have now been told that this is not enough. I need to try on more dresses, more 'bridal' dresses and see if I get the feeling more. It completely took the feeling away from me. Whatever feeling bridal, or like a bride is, I know it will be incomplete without M: I can't feel like a bride without my groom.

"I'm sure things could change as time goes on, we have a year until the wedding day - maybe one of the millions of dresses I now have to try on will make me feel more like a bride? Or maybe the one today was the one, and I will only feel fully 'bridal' when I am with the person who wants me to be his bride, and wants me to be his wife."

becoming a bride redux - part 2

2011-06-06T01:34:00.000-07:00

And so to the second of our three posts on 'becoming a bride', or whatever that might mean. (If you need a little background, here's part one to explain what we're up to).

Lisa Marie blogs over at This Girl Is... and if my Sherlock-style deduction skills haven't failed me, is partial to tea and baking delicious cake. She married her husband Dave in August 2008. Take it away, Lisa-Marie...

"When the subject of 'feeling bridal' arose during a Twitter conversation, I immediately got annoyed. Lots of brides seem to feel the pressure from magazines, the bridal industry, and from friends to immediately feel 'bridal'.

"I have been married for almost three years now and I love it. I am still as sentimental as it is possible to be. I enjoyed and was excited about planning my wedding for the most part. But despite all of that, I can still count on one hand the times I felt bridal (or my idea of 'bridal', and they boil down to: When I first tried on my wedding dress with family present, when my bridesmaids and I tried on our dresses together, when we decorated the venue the evening before, and on my wedding day.

"I don't think this is because I am missing some innate bridal element, or because there is something wrong with me, as people seem to imply. Dave and I are pretty traditional in our values, but our marriage would be considered modern. Fifty years ago, most brides wouldn't have lived with their partners, would never have has a sexual relationship with anyone before marriage, and would very much consider the wedding as the start of their adult life. When people use the word 'bridal' that's what I think of. The excitement, nervousness and hopefulness of a new life.

"When we got married, I'd been living with Dave for two years, we'd been sharing everything - good and bad - for all of that time. Our adult life was well and truly started. I was very excited to get married, and on the day I was nervous, but I was nervous about being looked at about Dave being OK during his speech. A friend of our ours summed up the situation beforehand. Someone asked if we were nervous about being married, and the friend replied 'They already are married'. He saw it as we did - we had everything but the same names and the legal document already.

"I think a large part of people expectation to feel 'bridal' is based on pressure from the Wedding Industry. Shows, forums, magazines, shops, diet planners, all looking to make as much money as they can from your 'BIG DAY'**. I fortunately didn't have much to do with this. Dave and I were both students at the time, so we were trying to make what we had to spend go as far as possible, and fitting wedding stuff into very busy lives. My dress was from eBay, we got married on a Thursday because it was cheaper, I did my own hair and make-up, family helped me decorate the venue, and the music was provided by various musician friends of ours.

"We had virtually no WI input at all (wedding magazines went out the window as soon as I found they expected me to be engaged for two years before being married), which meant I felt little pressure to be anything other than myself.

"I'm sure every bride feels different things at different points. I just think people should allow themselves to feel things as and when they feel them, not according to a timetable made by other people. I became 'a bride' in the short time before, and on the day I was married, and it worked for me.

** 'your BIG DAY' - I have to say, this phrase, along with 'the best day of your life', really bothers me. I got married at 25, and while it was amazing and perfect for us, I really hope my life didn't peak then."

becoming a bride redux - part 1

2011-06-06T01:24:00.000-07:00

(source)

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about 'becoming a bride'. A quick, note to explain that finally, after being engaged for almost two years, I had started to embrace the wedding and found myself feeling excited in a way that I could only describe as 'bridal'.

A couple of days later, a tweet from the lovely Siobhan asked me for advice. How could she feel the same? She didn't feel like a bride, and she felt she should. Lisa-Marie helped me answer her, and the conversation was a good one. It was a conversation I wished I'd had when I was newly engaged. Something happened to almost everyone I knew at that point, when they was assumed I had changed overnight, releasing my inner bride and preparing to witter on about nothing but white dresses until the wedding. Then I got another email from Dee, out of the blue, talking about the post too. Seems I inadvertently hit on a hot topic.

So, I asked the ladies to crystallise their thoughts in a couple of blog posts - a first for C&B! As you may have guessed, I don't really do the whole sponsored posts thing (apologies to the sweet PR girl who has been asking me to blog about Royal Wedding commemorative pizza) but guest blogs - why the hell not, eh?

The two posts will follow over the next day or so and hopefully at some point I'll conclude it.

I'll open with this note, from Dee at Adventures of a Dizzy Girl - and hope that all of you reading this would feel free to offer your thoughts on the subject, if you have them, in the comments below as the day(s) go(es) on. But be nice!

Here's Dizzy Girl Dee to kick off:

"I don’t fully understand what it means to feel like a bride. I’m starting to think that I feel like one, but I think it’s actually just that I’m starting to get more attention. Not that I want it, but people are treating me like a bride, which makes me feel more like one.

"But I’m never going to be a demure, classic or calm bride. Nor will I be crazy and mean. I really do think that being a bride is as simple as being the focus of a lot of people’s attention."

Next up: Lisa Marie...

weird moment

2011-05-23T09:48:00.001-07:00

[Booking part of the honeymoon]

Woman on phone: What's your surname for the tickets?
Me: It's, uhh.... well, we'll be, um, married then. So do I give you his name?

Result: Tickets booked under J's name and initial. Even though it will then be MY name too. I could have given her my married name. I didn't. I didn't feel I could own it yet.

I really need to start thinking of it as MY name too. First step: develop a new signature. This is going to be strange...

writing a secular ceremony

2011-05-22T12:48:00.000-07:00

Well, if I thought deciding on a dress was hard, it was nothing compared to writing our ceremony. It's not done, but yesterday our friend who is doing the ceremony came round, and after much prevaricating over sushi and ramen and coffee and a walk in the park and four pots of tea, we decided to sit down with a pen and paper and actually do it.

For those who aren't aware: we are getting married on top of a hill by a friend. We aren't religious and so don't think we should go to church. so we're doing the legal bit in a register office first. But I think the law is an ass on the whole 'not letting you get married outside' thing, so we're working our way around this by having the ceremony we want, outside, on a hill, done by a wonderful friend.

T, our friend, was fantastic. I'd sent him some links (to A Cupcake Wedding and Wedding for Two's blog posts - ladies, what would we do without you?) and he'd done his own research, turning up with a rough outline of how he felt the ceremony should go.

So far, so simple. But then it gets harder. Here were some of the things that we found hard. If you're involved in your ceremony at all, you might find these things hard too. Or you might find something else we haven't thought of hard. Either way, please share in the comments. I need all the help I can get on this...

1. How do you want to involve your guests? We're not having any singing and possibly no live music - though we may have some sort of amp. So how do we involve those people who are there to support us? Hand fasting? Considered but ultimately rejected as a bit pagan for us - some relatives are already convinced we might as well have it at Stonehenge as on top of a hill. Passing rings around? A good idea but will it mean anything to people? I'm uncomfortable with the idea of a 'blessing' and what else would you call that? So we're going to have a 'We do' from the congregation. We will say our vows, and then T will ask if the congregation will support us. And they will hopefully answer, with a prompt: "we do".

2. Readings. These are full of pitfalls. That lovely poem you remember liking from years back? Yeah, it's probably going to have a line or word in it that's going to make you snigger. We went through hundreds of poems and readings, without exaggeration.We rejected some for lines that were suggestive of procreation - can't read those in front of elderly aunts. Others trigger words for getting the giggles ("shaft" - as in "of light" being one, and "sheath" being another - we're very mature people). Beautiful poems but if J hears the word 'shaft' and raises an eyebrow at me, I won't be able to hold it in.

Also - some poems you might feel you want to read to your partner - how would you feel if a friend read them? Do you want to do the reading yourself? Hmm. Is it too soppy? Maybe you need to pick a different poem. Also, I hate any poem with a trace of twee or awkwardness. Anything that said 'tis' was out, unless it was Shakespeare. Modern verse all the way for us. But in the interests of mixing it up, we are trying to find something traditional to break up the flow. TBC.

3. Who is doing the readings? You might love your friend Bob, but if Bob is the shyest man on the planet, would, and could he do a reading? How about bridesmaids? How do you pick one to read if you have several 'maids? Do you want to involve new people?

For us, we wanted to involve our friends that were outside of the 'inner circle' of bridesmaids and family etc. And we had to make sure we picked people that wouldn't be freaked out by the prospect and could stand up and do justice to the words.

4. The inclusion of any religious elements. One thing I have always loved about church weddings is the Corinthians reading - just the passage that starts: "Love is patient, love is kind". It's beautiful, and true and I agree with it. But I am not religious and I feel you cannot pick and choose what bits of religion you like, and excise the rest.

However, we are not dismissive of religion, and also recognise the truth in the words. One way around this that we discussed was the possibility of asking a friend, who is religious, to read this. However, we are currently leaning towards leaving it out.

Anyway. This post is very much unformed thoughts about the challenges we encoutered. I'm sure I'll be much more coherent next time.

becoming a bride

2011-05-16T01:05:00.000-07:00

Re-reading my previous post makes me realise: the main thing that I hadn't expected was that I would become 'a bride', with all the connotations that involves. Not that brides have to put their hair up or spend 150 quid on shoes. But that's just what's happened for me.

Discussing this with friends at a hen do last weekend, a few engaged and recently-married ladies were talking with a girl who was yet to be engaged. She sounded like me of a year and a half ago: "I don't want the fuss, I don't want any of the traditions, I just want it really low key, I want to do it my way..."

Every single one of the engaged/married ladies said the same thing. They were like that too. They were embarrassed by being a 'bride to be' and they wanted to do it differently. Then they realised, that as Becca said in the comments to my last post, that the things that you want to reject are the things that make it a wedding. It took a while for me to realise that people love weddings and that I might love one too. Once we'd realised we wanted to have a wedding, not just the 'big party' that had been initially suggested, then there were some things that couldn't be rejected.

During the same conversation, I also posited the point that a wedding wasn't just your day. You were the reason for it, but it's also for everyone else. I'm still haunted by a comment from my mum in the early days, which made me feel like the most selfish bride to be in the world - everything I'd thought I was escaping by doing it another way.

Me: We aren't going to have cake. We're just going to have cheese.
Mum: [disappointment and huge sadness in her voice] No cake?
Me: Yes, you can have cheese, like a cake. It's really cool.
Mum: [sadly] But... people like cake...

Yes, and of course, the crucial detail. My mum doesn't like cheese. What was her daughter doing? How could I be so inconsiderate? I felt like the worst sort of bride, demanding that people bow to her will and do things HER WAY. You can fight for what you want. But it's a shame if that makes other people sad.

Another friend, due to be married in a month, said that now the initial fuss had died down, she was looking forward to getting married more than anything. And not just to getting married, but to being married and to celebrating it.

Anyway. Three and a half months to go, I'm finally embracing it.

not what i expected

2011-05-13T09:56:00.000-07:00

I'm slowly coming to the realisation that many things about this wedding have turned out to be different from what I expected. Sometimes completely so. This isn't bad. But it is occassionally surprising.

Viz:

Vision 1: the presence of a veil. I had been staunchly anti-veil. I was going to wear my hear down, possibly with a little flower in it, all hippy, like.

The reality: I tried on a veil in a shop. Well, I say tried on - I was holding up a dress and it was stuck in the back of my hair, which was up, (see vision 2) by a third party when I wasn't looking. I had to admit it looked pretty nice.

Vision 2: I would have my hair down, like some sort of Grecian goddess, to go with my flowing dress.

The reality: I remembered that we are getting married on top of a hill and did start to have some minor concerns about wind levels and dishevellment. Then I was in a shop and trying on a dress almost-the-particular-style-which-I-ultimiately-decided-to-go-for (oh the secretiveness - more to come on this) and it was suggested that I put my hair up. I had to admit it loked pretty nice...

Vision 3: I would wear a flowing dress, maybe made entirely of tulle. It would have a simple empire line, perhaps. It might have even been this absolute beauty.

The reality: Though I didn't try on the dress in the link, I did discover that on the whole, flowing dresses are not made for pear shapes. The lack of boob coupled with the childbearing hips means there is a distinct air of pregnancy about a flowing gown on a pear. I might want a hippy vibe but having bust my ass losing weight for more than a year, I don't want to look up the duff down the aisle. Also, the last thing I need is added volume around the arse area. Not when there will be photos from that angle.

Vision 4: Shoes at £50 or less
The reality: I can't find any. Apart from a sage green pear that I sort of like (and bought anyway). The cheap options are massive stilletos which I love but cannot stand up in. Also I have terrifying visions of blisters. I'm going for a pair of Rachel Simpson's. Not too expensive, effing gorgeous and a wide range of wearable-height heels. Goddamnit I won a dress! So I can spend a bit more on shoes. We're not talking several hundred, or even several thousand here. Just eminently reasonable, beautiful (yes, actively beautiful, rather than the fugly diamante/cheap satin vibe that so many 'wedding shoes' apparently insist on).

OK, there are loads more. The biggest one is the style of dress which for obvious reasons, I can't spill here. Suffice to say that the amazing House of Mooshki has been briefed and it's not a flowing empire line Grecian jobby. But I do love it.

Vision 5: I'd never find 'my dress'. I'd just have a dress I liked.

The reality: Well, I won a dress, as you might know. But I still didn't know what I wanted. Thankfully, they did. And so now I do. I have 'a dress'. My brain has picked it and I feel I had little part in it.

It's barely even a conscious thing - from a small handful of 'variations' drawings from Mooshki, my subconscious brain made up its own mind. I looked at the dresses at 1am, when the email pinged to my phone. By the time I woke up, every time I thought of what I might wear, I thought of just one of them. Which surprises me in the best way. I never thought I would get even a little bit excited about the dress, and so it's a very pleasant surprise to find I have. And I am so grateful that Mooshki has given me the chance to.

the weight is almost over

2011-05-04T01:21:00.000-07:00

So, after a year and a third of dieting and losing three and a half/four stones (depending on when I count from), it's now six weeks until I get measured for my dress and have to maintain my weight until the wedding.

So it's going to be an interesting six weeks, when I absolutely hammer the exercise and, bearing in mind that I have a hen night and a wedding during this time, kick the ass of the plan as much as humanly possible.

But the fact remains - even if I lose at a stonking rate during this period - say 2-3lbs a week (and I don't lose that fast, generally) - I may look much like this when I get married. I certainly won't be the dainty sylph that I had initially thought I would be, however unlikely that might have actually been (I am not dainty ever - I doubt I magically would be at 11 stones)

If I manage to lose 2lbs a week between now and then, which is not impossible, I will have lost almost another stone and be squarely a size 14 which I know looks good on my frame. It also puts me at 'bikini point' - the time when I can wear a bikini without feeling like a large pasty Michelin (wo)man in swimwear. So I would be OK with that.

But if I lose 1lb a week between now and then - I'll look much the same - I will be a 14-16. A great improvement from the size 24 I was, no doubt. But still. I really need to come to terms with this.

the a list

2011-05-04T01:08:00.000-07:00

Or the b list, or the absence of either. It's not like we've got a Royal Wedding sized guest list to juggle and Elton and David to seat, but we did have a little bit of juggling to do.

We didn't want the numbers to get out of control, and so we had a list of invitees, and then a list of people we wanted to invite but weren't sure we could accommodate. Then it became clear that we were getting some 'no' RSVPs, mostly from my family. This was quite pleasing in a bizarre way at first. We could feel the budget shrinking, dropping with every 'no' card that dropped through the door. And rather meanly - some were invited out of a sense of duty and I felt relieved, rather than sad that they weren't coming.

But then we looked at the 'b' list and felt quite sad. J in particular seemed to have been enlivened by watching Kate and Wills (he really enjoyed it I think, sitting there drinking his way through a pot of coffee and eating a scone) and embraced the whole wedding thing - and said: sod it. We are asking them. What would the damage be? Hmm... a quick calculation: maybe 300-400 extra pounds. Or rather - back up to our original budget rather than the lower budget that had emerged.

We only do this once, he said, and I love these people. We will find the money. I'd rather have them there. I looked at our list and not-too-reluctantly agreed that I would rather have them there.

So that's it, no b list. It's not something everyone can do (hmm... we can barely...) but it's the right thing for us. These lovely people will be there, I hope. And now we've run out of invitations...

the hen do and the hangover

2011-04-26T05:37:00.000-07:00

So, I am back from my hen do, exhausted but very happy. The weekend, as many of you know was almost a complete surprise, in that I knew I was going, but I had no idea where we might be headed or what it would involve. I’m going to tell you the story below, with pics to follow. This is by far and away the most obvious post I’ve ever done, so if anyone I know stumbles across this blog, I’ll definitely be discovered. But never mind – I’m still going to share.

So – Friday. Several of the hens convened at out flat at 9.30 in the morning, ready to be picked up by hen/best lady L. We drove out of London on the M40 (with me in the back, under strict instructions not to look at the sat nav).

We drove out, past Oxford, and our favourite wild swimming spot and then carried on, off the motorway, and up the A40. We got deep into the Cotswolds and then up a single track road, leading me to believe we were almost there. And then we pulled into a sort of farm set up – five giant cottages set in the middle of fields. Beautiful!

When we arrived, another friend pulled out a box of decorations she’d made: bunting, garlands, hearts etc. I was in awe of her craftiness and she was recruited to team bunting. We strung it up and admired. Then we found a 1000 piece Charles and Diana commemorative Royal Wedding jigsaw in a drawer. I considered stealing it.

We dumped our stuff and then started sunbathing and picnicking on the grass while waiting for the other hens. I still had no idea what was going on but it was just lovely to see everyone. There was some top class gossip going on.

I had anticipated a mixture of civilised activity and debauchery and this is what happened. My first activity was revealed: a trip to a spa in Cheltenham, where we had a three hour ‘twilight’ session booked – and they had booked me a massage! I have never felt luckier to have such disgracefully wonderful friends.

Spa attendant: ... and over there, you’ll see a table with water and magazines. Make sure you drink plenty as it’s very warm in here. [Leaves]

Friend J, staring at the patrons in the pool drinking huge glasses of red wine, panicking slightly: But where’s the bar? They told us where the water was, but where’s the bar?

We lazed around for three hours, gossiping, reading trashy mags, some of us drinking wine, dipping in and out of the pool and steam room and going for our treatments. Bliss. Really, no, absolute absolute bliss.

Then a trip to the pub – a pub dinner, then back to the cottage for wine, where we broke the first bottle opener on the immense stash of wine. There were 12 people. There were approximately 40 bottles – plus gin, martini and homemade schnapps.

The next morning: breakfast and an activity solely designed to allow for serious gossip and proper catching up. I think this was my favourite bit of the whole weekend but it’s not really in keeping with the theme of a raucous hen weekend. Dear reader: we went to a National Trust garden. You can dock even more cool points as I got in for free, being a member. Yes, this whole 20-something bride to be malarkey is just a front for a 75 year old retiree. Sssh...

This involved a picnic, cava and then a retreat to a quaint village for cake. There was a lot of cake.

Then we went back to the cottage, I was banished to my room to get ready while my amazing hens prepared a three course meal, a series of games and upped the decoration quotient. When I was allowed back in, my place was marked by a single item of hen paraphernalia – a fluffy halo. Quite restrained of them, I think and as tasteful /cute as hen paraphernalia could be.

We ate some antipasti type snacks, broke another bottle opener and played the games – beginning with a wonderful Mr and Mrs quiz. Dinner was consumed, plus most of the wine. Then we played more games. I won’t lie – I didn’t think I’d enjoy this bit, but it was actually brilliant fun. Even when I stood on a chair and two teams created me some very stylish wedding dresses out of bog roll.

Someone then decided it was time for shots. But what to do with no shot glasses? Oh dear. Eggcups.

Then there was dancing. More dancing. Dancing. There was dancing until 4am. Some of it may have been with a broom version of J with balloon arms and legs and a felt-tipped head. I couldn’t possibly confirm this.

The next morning, my friends got up bright and early at 8.30 sodding AM. I could barely move.

Friend W: What do you normally do when you get a hangover like this?

Me: lying in bed, blocking out light with head under duvet: I don’t normally get hangovers

Of course, all friends thought this was hilarious and even documented it with photos. I breakfasted lavishly on two paracetamol and a nausea-inducing cup of black tea. Around midday, I managed some toast.

We had to get in the car and go home. I eventually managed to pack my case, which in an attempt to find some crucial item at 2am the night before, I had scattered the contents thereof far and wide.

I spent the journey to Oxford with my eyes closed, drinking gallons of water. We stopped at the services and I visited the loo. Out of the haze, my eyes closed on an advert on the back of the door, promoting the deliciousness of a range of crisps. A neuron fired in my brain: SALT. It said. You need SALT. I sat on the loo, gazing at the ad, deciding between Salt and Vinegar Discos and Bacon Wheat Crunchies.

The Crunchies won and I left the bathroom as fast as my weak legs would carry me in search of SALT. I bought the crisps (Grab Bag – oh joy) and a bottle of water and almost opened them in desperation while in the queue. I had stuffed half a bag by the time my friends came back to the car and we’d all had the same thought – the others had turned up with crisps, Burger King fries, onion rings. The effects were magical – we’d all clearly had too much water and no salt and I felt a lot better – well enough to sustain a conversation for the first time that day.

Which I think, is as it should be.

genuinely alternative first dance wedding songs

2011-04-11T15:09:00.000-07:00

(source)

Wow, we really, really cannot decide on a first dance song. In a way, it's a nice situation to be in. We can't decide because we love music so much. Our CD and digital music collection is immense and grows often weekly, sometimes by rather a large number. Thank god we got plenty of iTunes vouchers for Christmas and there is wonderful record shop near where I work (though they are part of the reason we (uh, I) buy too much music).

Anyway. Any of the following could very much still be our first dance song, but I thought you might appreciate the list of the rather more unusual choices that are under consideration, in case you're in the market for something similar yourself or would just like to listen to some lovely tracks.

So. Our first dance song was always (from about two years after we got together) going to be Pulp - 'Something Changed'. Then something did change, and we this song slightly receded into second place. I also had an issue with the line: "would I be singing this song to someone else instead?" though J maintained it was fine. It could still be fine - it could still be the song.

I had a short phase of wanting Elbow 'Starlings' but it isn't really a song you can have a first dance to. But it is a good walking down the aisle song. So we think we're going to go for that there instead.

The upbeat song that took Pulp's place? 'You Couldn't be Cuter' - but emphatically NOT the Ella version. The one you want is Al Bowlly with Lew Stone and his band. Have a listen. Bloody ace. I also loved this because it's a man singing about how brilliant his lady is.

Then that got slightly knocked off its perch. Guess what did it? Mint Royale 'Don't Falter'. Remember the 90s, kids? Lauren Laverne sings the immortal line 'You must decide/To risk your heart for love to find you' and says something about her fella being 'officially mine' so it's apt. Plus it would get the party started nicely, or more nicely than a slow, sway-ey number. I love this song.

The current final wildcard option? Home, by Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros. A fantastic song, though pretty hard to sway-dance to but we could get some lessons and learn something a bit more upbeat.

Others that would make good first dance songs that crossed our minds: Zorbing, by Stornoway; Be My Baby by the Ronettes (the vaguely traditional choice? Would also require learning to do more than sway.) There are a number of other Phil Spector songs that would also do a decent job here.

A number of National songs have also been discussed, but none ended up in the running. If you want a short song, then you can always go for Laura Marling 'Crawled out of the sea' (an album interlude and about a minute and a quarter). Another contender very early in our relationship was James 'Just like Fred Astaire' but this was rejected because of lyrical uncomfortableness but it could work for you.

Anyway, there you have it. All of these songs were picked for their lyrics. Neither of us can really dance anyway (90% enthusiasm, 10% ability - at most) so we don't mind dancing like idiots to a song that is perhaps a little harder to dance to, but says nice things.

you think you've got it hard

2011-04-05T05:29:00.000-07:00

The other night, i got a text from a friend. "Are you free to talk one night this week?"

Why would she ask? She must be upset.

An immediate phone call ensues, where she tells me, through sobs, that she can't come to the wedding.

She can't afford it: she's got a house, a mortgage, and she thinks she's going to lose her job. She currently supports her partner, who is signed off work sick and not earning. She has a chronic illness herself.

She does this all on her own. She's my oldest friend.

Immediately I tell her she's coming - we have rooms on the farm she can have, or I will buy her a room. I can find the money. I need her to be there.

She refuses to be a charity case but it's not that. She has to come. And she will. She's so upset - from the certainty that she won't be coming to the realisation that she will.

She had been trying to tell me for weeks, losing sleep over it, trying to work it out and panicking.

(*Today, she works out a way of making it work. It's all fine, she tells me. She's got it sorted, she's booked a hotel, which was half price. She's going to save enough. She's a very proud person. She won't take the place of someone else on the farm. But she doesn't realise that she isn't. She comes before so many people.)

Then, last night, at Slimming group, a woman confessed that she did find it quite hard to be good, day-to-day, because SHE OWNED A BAKERY. Shite. Rather put the moaning of everyone else into the room into perspective. Would we be on a diet if we ran a bakery?

My days right now are not that challenging, on the whole, for which I am continually grateful. Other people never cease to amaze me.

calling all brides to be

2011-03-30T02:11:00.000-07:00

So one of the things about having a long engagement is that as you go through the months of planning, other ladies you know who were engaged, get married.

Now this is a great thing, and as it should be - I love reading the blogs of these ladies still, and I'm so glad I found them. But it is nice to hear from other engaged ladies - people in the same position as you (er...me).

I know from my blog stats that there are more readers than there are commenters - though who knows, most of those may be dodgy Russian spambots, but if you're reading and you're engaged I would love to hear from you and hear your thoughts on what I'm posting. Maybe you have a blog or tweet too? I'd love to find out.

(Married ladies - don't desert me! I love you too and your wisdom :D I guess I'm just nosy)

dress shopping - round two

2011-03-29T05:41:00.000-07:00

The second dress shopping experience last week could not have been less like the first. Obviously there were some similarities - I stood around in my pants quite a bit and I tried on some big white things and ended up surprisingly tired - but really, that was is.

I went to two FANTASTIC shops in London - please forgive me if I don't post names here but I am suffering with a great deal of guilt about how amazingly helpful they were given I am not going to be buying a dress. I had to go shopping - I had no choice, but I don't need to rub it in anyone's face.

The customer service was absolutely second to none and I will hopefully be assuaging some guilt by returning to both for accessories and by recommending them to you good people. DM me on Twitter or email me if you want the info.

I will write a post listing their names in a few weeks/months, when any soreness they may feel if they see their names up here now may have subsided.

I had expected less from London shops - my first bad experience and testimonies from friends had told me that shops oop north were friendlier and shops in London were hoity toity, pushy and unhelpful. I could not have been more wrong. The shops up north were perfunctory and pedestrian. The shops in London put a lot more effort in and tried a lot harder - accessorising dresses that I had initially dismissed in a way that made me utterly rethink my choices.

It's dangerous to generalise about a region being this way or that, but we mentioned this disparity in one of the shops and it led to a discussion about how you can't get away with crap service in London. Look at the plethora of amazing cheap restaurants - competition means you have to be good. Anyway, this is a sideline.

What made it so different was two things: the different standard of dresses and the different standard of service. I was helped in and out of dresses a lot more (I was even offered bridal underwear to try dresses on with in one shop) and properly dressed. Despite my fears about being seen in my pants, this 'dressing' was a very good thing. A good dress shop will make judicious use of ribbons, pins and side panels to make a dress that is two or three sizes too small look beautiful - and look like it fits. They will also show you how the dress will look finished - add ribbons, flowers, straps, suggest you put your hair up and then pin a veil on - in a way that made this more of an experience. I stood on a box and was coo-ed over. It was quite nice to feel nice in the dresses.

Up north, I was left to my own devices. Here I was properly attended to. It made something I was wary about into actually, dare I say, a really pleasurable day.

So if you want some straight up advice about buying dresses then here are my TOP TIPS, kids.

1. Do not plan to visit too many shops in one day. I did two on each day - four shops in total. If you know they have dresses you like then this is more than enough. I was so shattered after each day (you spend the whole thing standing up) that two is more than enough. Plan a nice lunch inbetween.

2. Do not take too many people with you. Two is optimum and make sure they are honest. Also, if everyone brought five people then the shops would not be a nice quiet reflective place. They would be a zoo.

3. Listen to the ladies in the shop. If they are good, they will tell you what to try on and what to avoid. You will probably, if you're like me, ignore them and want to try on some things that are wrong anyway. Then you will learn that they are right.

4. That said, do try on some different things. Some shops will keep giving you strapless meringue after strapless meringue. Look for different styles.

5. Nice underwear. Seam free white pants, sturdy white bra with removable straps.

6. Try to go on a weekday for at least one of the trips. You will get a quieter shop with much better service and it feels a bit more of an event. I enjoyed this feeling more than I expected to.

7. Squat. When you put on a dress and you think you like it, try having a little squat or sit down (there probably won't be a chair, so squat). Can you breathe? Do you feel a bit sick? If you think this is 'the one' - then try to keep the dress on for a few minutes and move around in it; don't just stand there gazing at yourself. You will have to wear this thing for many hours. If you're hitching it up and sweating after 10 minutes then maybe rethink.

8. Do not do what I did and leave it until the last minute. Go sooner rather than later. You can always go again. It focuses your mind somewhat. Even if you think you can't go because you're a size 18 or 16 (as I did) - ignore the little doubting voice in your mind. There are shops that will stock dresses for you. Find them and go.

sparkly

2011-03-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

Someone said that at work, today. Not about me, but about someone else. "She has amazing joie de vivre; she's so sparkly".

I wish I was sparkly. I wish I sparkled in conversations, instead of being racked with self doubt. I leave a room, and I worry what people think of me. I worry all the time. I worry when J goes away (he's going away a lot for work coming up - across the Atlantic, no less). I worry when he gets on the tube. I worry so much, all the time, that I barely even notice it any more.

I worry about my family - they are so far away. When my dad or brother call me, I instantly assume something is wrong with my mum, who is epileptic. When anyone calls at an unusual time, I worry that something is wrong and before I answer, my stomach does a little flip.

This hasn't been helped lately by the fact that something was wrong - my tiny nephew was in intensive care for a while. He's home now, but it was agony. Weirdly, I didn't outwardly worry about this. I kept ploughing through and pretending everything was fine - I couldn't visit - and then a week ago I had a little breakdown when I locked myself in the bathroom and cried for a long time, really uncontrollably. I don't cry much. Not at TV or films, generally. Not like J, who cries at anything. He can barely watch One Born Every Minute.

It's such a shame. I tell myself all the time that if anything were to happen, all that I would feel is regret for living under such a cloud of worry. All I can do is keep telling myself that. If others worry, I hear wise words coming out of my mouth. How do the sparkly people do it?

diet disappointment

2011-03-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

So, the past few weeks has been a huge disappointment on the dieting front. While since Christmas, I have lost the weight I gained over the festive period, I haven't lost much more. (I gained seven and lost 8lbs since). This week, I even gained half a lb.

Given that I have been on plan, and had thought I would lose at least another stone by now, this is not good. Hugely, hugely disppointing.

how to buy a wedding dress

2011-03-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

The first round of dress shopping was last weekend and it wasn't like I had expected at all.

I don't think it makes a difference that I'm not buying a dress, but that I won one and am having one made. I would still be doing this, round about now, either way.

But it was an odd experience, no doubt about it. What I wish I'd known was how much easier it would have been if I was even one dress size smaller - a 14, even. I'm a 16 at the moment and most sample dresses are in a 10/12. I had expected more of a range of sizes - up to the odd 16 at least, and while you can squeeze yourself into a 14/12 and leave it open at the back, it's not a great indication of how something will look. There were racks of things in 8s and 10s that were totally out of bounds to me, that i couldn't even try on. I know small stores can't stock multiple sizes but really, to have two thirds of a shop in one or two tiny sizes is sad.

I was glad a bought a sturdy bra with removable straps the day before, as lots of dresses were pinned to it, gaping open at the back. My underwear was less visible than I'd been concerned about - I think the bosomy middle aged shop assistants saw it but no one else. You get yourself into most of the dresses (though some were so huge I almost had to ask for help a few times) and then you're shoved in/zipped up from the back.

I liked some of the Jenny Packham dresses, which were beautiful. But honestly, I was happiest in Monsoon, where the dresses fitted and flattered and I felt quite pretty.

I am so glad I'm having a dress made. But another shopping trip in a couple of weeks to get through first.

wedding dress shopping knickers

2011-03-09T06:10:00.000-08:00

Due to unforseen circumstances, my first round of dress shopping has been brought forwards to this weekend. So I have to get over my heebie jeebies pretty damned quick now.

Do you know what's just dawned on me? That in dress shops, you are dressed. Ie: other people physically put you into the clothes. And this means: new underwear. Emergency purchasing of new pants. If my mum saw the best bra and pants now there's a fair chance she could disown me for bringing shame on the family. For some reason, these things matter to mums. Or to mine, at least.

Why does no wedding magazine ever warn you of this? Surely this is of more concern to most people than the suitability of a sweetheart neckline. Cosmo Bride dress buying top tip number 24: STRANGERS WILL SEE YOUR PANTS!

Oh and we have to tell The Man (ie, the council) that we're getting married on Friday. We're really doing this, kids!

2011-03-08T06:08:00.000-08:00

Hello there. If you've arrived today from Any Other Wedding, then welcome. I've got a guest blog over there today about 'choice' in honour of International Women's Day.

I've been asked to post this message - credit where credit's due...

'In Her Own Words: In Celebration of International Women's Day 2011' was created to share and celebrate the experiences of women from many walks of life. All day Tuesday, March 8th Any Other Wedding and One Cat Per Person will feature posts written by a collective of intelligent, passionate and opinionated women bloggers from the United States and the United Kingdom. We encourage you to comment and create dialouge as well as visit their respective blogs. The conversation starts here, but it does not need to end here. Be sure to stop by Any Other Wedding and One Cat Per Person throughout the day to read all of the posts in the series. For more information about International Women's Day, visit www.internationalwomensday.com.

Banner: Joshua Gomby

workies

2011-02-27T14:30:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gents (but really, I'm thinking mostly ladies), I have a guest list question or possibly even a slight dilemma.

Workmates. I like mine. But I don't really see them outside work. They're not friends, or not yet - they're colleagues. Good colleagues, but still colleagues.

I work in a small office and there are eight of us. One works part time and won't be invited, but will be fine with that. But the others - I'm still left with six colleagues. One's the boss, and we know her partner so he'll need to be invited. One other has a partner I know. Three others have partners but I don't know them and if we get the invitations out soon we can get away with just those two plus ones. So that's eight invitations. Out of 85 guests. That is, let's say, a large proportion. A huge proportion, in fact.

However - they are all very excited for me and I think I should invite them. Discussions with my best ladies this evening began with, "don't invite them if you're not sure, save the money" to, 'it'll be more trouble than it's worth if you don't invite them," and, "at least they are a discrete group and can look after themselves." There it is: the wisdom of crowds. I should invite them.

But as with this wedding, if you come, you're there for the lot: ceremony and evening event. However - something about saying the vows in front of my colleagues makes me feel uncomfortable. These aren't people that know us intimately, and barely know J at all. Two have just worked there for two months so far.

As I type this, the solution is starting to seem obvious - invite them to arrive after the ceremony. But everyone else would be arriving before - with just colleagues there later. Am I being daft? Does it matter if they are there for the ceremony or not? I'd even need to print them special invitations.

In an ideal world, I'd invite them and half would politely decline. But isn't it wrong to invite people who you secretly hope won't turn up?

the should haves

2011-02-25T00:56:00.000-08:00

How naive I was to think I'd be immune from this. The 'should haves' have started and coming at the same time as a couple of other things, it's been a rather stressful week.

In a week when my tiny baby nephew was taken very ill indeed (as in - on a ventilator in intensive care ill - but he's ok now, almost ready to come home) I ended up getting the 'should haves' from people about the provision of savoury snackfoods at the wedding.

W. T. F.

To provide some background: by last weekend, it was clear that my little nephew was improving, about to come off the ventilator. We couldn't visit (200 miles away and visitors not really allowed - especially as I had a cold), but didn't fancy going out much - we were exhausted from work and the stress. So we finally, finally took a proper look at the budget. We also went for our cake tasting. And we worked out a plan for the day.

At this point, we realised that:

1. We were due to go over budget
2. We would be feeding people afternoon tea a mere two hours before dinner and then two hours later, cheese and cake. There would be too much food.
3. The cake would be amazing. We'd hate for it to be not really eaten at 10 o'clock at night when people were already stuffed and drinking and didn't really want it.

The new plan emerged: instead of afternoon tea, we'd serve the wedding cake in the afternoon with a glass of prosecco and that would tide people over until dinner. Trouble is we've already paid for part of the food, including the afternoon tea. Would it be too late to change plans?

Thankfully it wasn't officially too late to change. Though the lady at the wedding venue - who is amazing, btw - started the should haves first. Clearly losing several hundred pounds isn't good for her, but it's essential for us.

She told us we would need to tell our guests IN ADVANCE that they would not be eating until the evening. Our guests are arriving at about 1.30 - when I have arrived at weddings at that time, I certainly have not expected lunch and dinner. And they WOULD be eating - a great hunk of cake!

And then she said that people would expect a sweet option alongside the cheese later that night. Now since when did people expect anything of the sort? I've been to weddings. People aren't all that hungry in the evening most of the time unless they ate lunch or an early dinner at 4 or something. Anyway, we can justify an extra 20 portions of cake if we don't have afternoon tea - there will be leftovers. But also - people will be eating a huge meal with pudding. They might not want any cheese or cake at all.

And my mum, bless her, then did it too, suggesting that people may not want sweet things in the afternoon and we should have a savoury option. Which has resulted in us relenting and agreeing to have some bowls of crisps, nuts and maybe olives too, or some small savoury bits. But I really don't want people stuffed for dinner.

And then on top of everything, the friend doing our ceremony went AWOL. Well, not totally - we knew he was alive as he'd been on Facebook, but he didn't answer our calls or return our texts. We started to panic, thinking this was a repeat of the photographer situation - where he'd realised he couldn't do the ceremony but didn't know how to tell us. I spent yesterday morning with a knot in my stomach trying to think of what else we could do, or who else could do it, and getting really upset as it was so out of character for him.

Then, thank god, he emailed to say that he'd been moving flat at short notice and he'd had a deadline and it had all just come at once. And that he was really sorry, and that of course he'd still love to do the ceremony. PHEW.

the dreams

2011-02-17T01:18:00.000-08:00

I'd heard about the wedding anxiety dreams.

But until now, I'd had just the one dream about the wedding and it had been hilariously relaxed. I'd dreamt that we'd had to move the wedding and had just two weeks to organise everything.

We'd changed the venue, bought a cake from some little bakers, got me a Monsoon dress, gone to the offie and bought a tonne of booze and it had worked out great. In my dream, I was walking around the grounds of some big old house (which in my mind, was a hybrid of a National Trust house I'd been to some time ago with my favourite park in London, Gunnersbury Park). I had some cake and a glass of something in my hand and was watching J play cricket with our friends while everyone stood talking and laughing and the sun was shining and the dream version of me was thinking 'well, this turned out pretty well, considering'.

I woke up feeling pretty chuffed with myself, despite having only actually dreamt that I was a kickass organiser and super-relaxed. HAHAHA.

Then last night, I had another dream. In this dream, the florist (who isn't being totally responsive on email at the moment - she's fab, but she took a month to confirm she'd got a deposit) had forgotten the date. We had forgotten to write a ceremony, vows and to basically do anything. I seem to remember we also forgot to send invitations (may have something to do with the real life email problems with our card supplier - I got confirmation of my expensive card order four days after placing it and having the money leave our account - a failure their end apparently).

In this dream, I was standing in a side room with J and our friend who is doing the ceremony, desperately trying to write the thing in three minutes. We had to go and try and find flowers for the tables. No one had a suit and all our guests were just standing around and wondering what to do and where to go.

I really don't want to be one of these people that gets stressed about things. But my brain seems to have other ideas.

why we're spending money on our wedding

2011-02-11T07:51:00.000-08:00

We should know better. Every time an article about spending any sort of money on weddings appears in the press, we read it and agonise over it. This one appeared today. We’re already blogging about it.

And worse than reacting – we read the comments below the articles, where folk hold an informal competition to prove that they are more down to earth and spent less than the next person. Then we get wildly and incoherently upset at the criticism. It’s like the Four Yorkshiremen sketch:

“We just went to the register office and then had a drink in the garden. It was good enough for us – why isn’t it good enough for you? Everyone said our wedding was the best!”

“Well in my day, we had got a single cocktail sausage and they only gave us half a pint of Strongbow. Now THAT was a wedding!”

For God’s sake. It makes me admire the Gypsy tradition of telling everyone that what you spent on anything is none of your goddamned business. Because really, it isn’t.

Let’s get this straight. A wedding is a luxury purchase unless you literally just go to the register office and spend nothing else. Albeit a luxury purchase with a little more meaning than a £500 handbag. It’s like a car, or a holiday, or a gap year, or a house. You spend what you want, and what you can.

So I thought I might tell you why we decided to spend money on our wedding. Why we might want to do such a thing. Not what we are spending, but why we are spending it.

It’s a lot of money. But it’s not £21k. It won’t be as much as the £12k spent in the Guardian article. But we’re definitely spending money on it.

Before we were engaged, I thought we’d keep costs down to a minimum. I thought, in my head, we might spend about £3-5k as an absolute maximum. Spending money on something - or not - does not confer significance.

But when we started to look into it, we realised that for this money, we could have a tiny wedding out of town, or stay here in London and book a local restaurant.

But neither of us really wanted that. We have parties like that all the time and they are fun. It would have been good, I’m sure. It just wasn’t what we really wanted.

But we thought about it. What did we want? To be outdoors. Being outdoors makes us happier than anything. Probably not to be in London. Not to get stressed. And to celebrate with lots of people we care about. Music, a hogroast. Some booze. Lovely.

We found an amazing place to get married and worked out how much it would cost for everything. It was more than £5k. But less than £12k.

That was the choice. The wedding we both wanted, or a cheaper thing that would suffice.

Would we spend the money?

It is a lot of money, there’s absolutely no denying it. We’ve never spend as much on anything. We never had gap years, either of us. We don’t own a house. We travel rarely and frugally. And before anyone says anything about a house deposit – where we live, we’d need at least three times this much to buy anywhere, plus liquid cash to pay solicitors. And we don’t want to buy because it just doesn’t suit us right now and won’t for a few years. Yes we could save the money for some indeterminate point in the future. But we could also get hit by a bus tomorrow, or watch house prices rise even further out of reach.

When we got betrothed, we decided on a long engagement so we could save money and I could lose weight (something that was already underway), so we worked out that we would have time to save.

When we told people we were engaged, our parents also made it clear that they wanted to help – we never ever asked for a penny and did protest. But they are excited, and it turns out they’ve been planning for it. They wanted to give money, despite all our reassurances that we were fine.

So we started to think that maybe we could do this. Maybe we could have this amazing, once in a lifetime party.

And the fact remains: if you want to invite a lot of people to your wedding and feed them, you will have to spend money. Because food costs money. And unless you are unemployed or have lots of friends who are willing to spend loads of time making food, this is the way it is.

I read all the time about people who had amazing DIY weddings, DIY-ing their food, having the party in someone’s garden. Well, let me tell you about the people I know. They all have jobs. Their gardens, if they have them, are tiny. They might fit a BBQ for 10 at a push.

I can almost read the comments now. What’s the matter – wouldn’t you be satisfied with a BBQ for 10? Are you an attention-seeker? Do you demand everyone plays a little part in your big charade of a day? Isn’t a wedding just between the two of you?

Well no, it’s not. A wedding is a party because of you, but it’s a day for lots of people. A day for your parents and friends. You might be the reason for it, but it isn’t YOUR day. I don’t feel I have the prerogative to demand that people pull together and take days off work (oh yes, I have a full time job and I work on the side as do most friends) in order to make couscous salad for 1000. We want to throw them a party because we like them, because this is one time we justifiably can, and ask very little in return.

There’s no denying we are lucky. There is also no denying that we want this, and have worked hard for it because it matters to us. We don’t judge people who buy a £10k new car that is worthless mere minutes after purchased. This day will never be worthless. We are spending money because we deem it to matter to us, much more than some shoddy flat in zone five, much more than a swanky new car.

I would never dare to judge someone who got married for £20. I wouldn’t judge someone who spent money on their dream car or on an amazing trip away. That’s why we are spending money on our wedding. But whatever you spend on your wedding is no business of anyone else.

an update for you

2011-02-10T07:04:00.000-08:00

So I realise I haven't talked about the practical stuff for a while. It might be useful for some of you, or just good form to let you know how everything is going.

We have got a date booked in to taste cake. I'll be putting all the suppliers up here after the wedding (gotta keep up that anonymity) but suffice to say I am damned excited about this and have to choose flavours today. We’re thinking carrot cake, some sort of apple cake and the third layer either fruit or a wildcard.

I have got some dates in to go and try on wedding dresses, which I need to do so I know what to tell Mooshki when I see them in the summer. One day is in London, and with the ma and ma in law, and the second is in my hometown with my ma and sister in law. I will emerge the other side with a fully formed idea of what the hell I’m going to wear and hopefully without a stress-related migrane.

Invitations are underway. We are going to Hobbycraft to buy card for invitations and then all we have to do is design the RSVP card and info sheet, print the invitations, glue the shit out of them, write them all, put them all in envelopes, put stamps on the RSVP cards, write the envelopes (getting all the addresses first, of course). And then set up a spreadsheet so we can see who replied. No sweat.

These have been a bigger ballache than they should have been in all honesty, because like all good DIY brides, I looked to Martha and bought a paper punch. Then I got the printers to print samples. But they only have 100gsm paper or 300gsm card. Martha’s wonderpunch can only cope with about 210gsm. But the reply postcard will need to be 300gsm or it won’t survive the post. So I need matching card in both weights, plus some nice transparent vellum for the info sheet to give to the printers. They can’t order it themselves because the minimum trade order is £90. I don’t need that much card.

So when I say ‘invitations are underway’ – I mean purely in my head or a theoretical sense.

Oh, and I bought envelopes, so in fact, some small part of the invitations now actually exists.

Operation jam and chutney is also well underway. This is where my mum and mum in law and maybe also me if necessary (but these women are jam and chutney MACHINES so this may not be necessary) make a pot of jam or chutney for every adult present. We tie their names onto them and they are sort of favours too. This is 85-90 jars, but I think my mum is already well past 20 (piccalilli, marmalade and whiskey marmalade) and J’s mum normally has about 150 jars of various allotment specials in her pantry. I’m sure this is an indie wedding cliché now but you may guess that I couldn’t give a toss. I love chutney and jam and why not work with your strengths? Or in my case, the maternal strengths.

My mum is also going massive on the bunting. She's made about 150 flags so far and is ordering industrial rolls of tape from eBay to string it along.

The venue is booked, the hair and makeup person is booked, the band is booked and the florist is booked. The venue does the food, so that’s all good. I’ve got the corkage costs secured and a wine merchant who will deliver. The venue and food are two thirds paid for and a wedding website with info is about 80 per cent done.

The honeymoon is probably about half booked (still missing many crucial details, like how we get there and some nights where we have no roof over our head. This weekend should sort them.) The register office is booked (after much begging). And as you all know, we have sorted out the photographer.

Oh, and even though I know nothing about it, I am having a hen do in a couple of months’ time. I won’t know anything about it either, until the time I turn up.

What does that leave?

Rings
Actual dress and little white dress for register office
Going to the town hall to declare our intention to marry
Shoes
Suit for man/maybe also best man
Honeymoon account
Write ceremony and vows
Dress shopping with best ladies
Seating plan
Erm...
Erm...
Erm...

I must have missed stuff. What have I forgotten?

a post about changing my name - or not

2011-02-07T06:52:00.000-08:00

It's hard to say when this got so complicated. I think it's just one of the many things that I hadn't considered until we got engaged. I'd always maybe thoought that I'd just keep my name, and that would be fine.

Except there are several reasons why it won't be fine.

J would love it if I took his name. His family would too.

My mum even wants me to change my name.

And I want to be of one name, when we are a family. J won't change his name - not to mine, or not to a third option.

But if I change my name, what will people think of me?

At work, people assume I won't change and that I would be betraying something essential to myself (office contains many feminists (myself included), divorcees/children of divorcees) and their experiences have shaped their opinions, which are obviously all very good points.

We visited Iceland last year, and I learned about their naming system, whereby the children take their father's first name as part of their surname. So David's son James would be James Davidsson.

David's son Jane would be Jane Davidsdottir. In some progressive families, some children take their mum's name as part of their first name. But it's not standard.

When women become wives in Iceland, they don't change their name. But their family lineage most often passes down without any part of their name in it. This is how they trace their family back to the founding Vikings and they are very proud indeed of how they can do this.

I won't pass on my name to any children. We're a patrilineal society in Britain, and that's just how it works. They will take J's surname. That's how we keep records and trace ancestry.

And in a way, what would my family be, without my father's name? I currently have a man's name - my father's - and his father's, and his father's, until the time we hopped off a boat and landed in this country (I have a very old, very unique surname. But so does J.)

In the balance of things, I may take his name. One of us has to give if we want to be a family. But you know what worries me most?

The thought that people will think I just took his name, without a second's consideration. I am making a conscious decision. I am a feminist. But it won't look like that to many people.

dress shopping

2011-02-03T15:22:00.000-08:00

Even though I was lucky enough to win my wedding dress, I must be one of the only engaged ladies in the world who hasn't at least tried one of the blooming things on. Ever. And because I'll need to know what to ask for from the lovely people who will make it, I'm definitely going to have to go dress shopping.

Except I think there must be something wrong with me. After a bad first experience in a dress shop, I thought I'd got over it - I would only go to nice shops. But visiting two of these stores with their kind and helpful staff the other day - and not even trying on a dress - brought me out in an almost physical panic.

So last weekend, I took the first steps down the road of mental preparation for dress shopping. I booked some appointments at a couple of shops for a few weeks' time and then, with my Mum, went into a couple of different shops to browse.

The second I walked in to shop number one, I had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach, It was as if I was about to go on stage, aged seven, for my debut as a snowflake in the school play. It was so close to excitement - those lovely butterflies - but it wasn't nice.

The place was a bunfight - people were hauling dresses from racks, cramming themselves into unforgiving gold satin bridesmaid frocks and cooing, all of them cooing. In the whole shop, there might have been two dresses that I could have envisaged myself wearing - the rest just made me feel odd, a little bit sweaty and shaky. I felt slightly queasy.

In the second store, the room had four special corners, like stages, where brides could stand in their large white confections and stare at themselves in a dozen angled mirrors simultaneously. One girl was standing there, on the verge of tears, surrounded by middle-aged relatives who were all asking again and again, "Is this the one, d'y'think? Is it? Is this the one?' She just kept dumbly nodding and squeaking.

I left feeling wobbly. I've got to deal with the fact that there is a day booked soon when I will be the one in the dress. I really want that day to be fun. I really need to get over this.

cheap and brilliant wedding photographers do exist

2011-01-26T15:01:00.000-08:00

I know. I can't quite believe it either. After being dropped by our wedding photographer friend (thank god, I have calmed down a little now) I didn't know what to do. So I asked Twitter and blogged about it.

And a miracle occurred - the power of crowds and the brilliance of total strangers meant that we got not just one recommendation for photographers, but several. All of them great and reasonably priced and genuinely concerned and helpful. It was humbling, and I can't believe our luck.

After much deliberation we made a decision. It was not an easy choice - as I say - all of the people that found us were great. And after making such a personal appeal, the replies I received were in the same vein - so it was really hard to turn down those who so kindly offered their services and help. I felt bad for doing so, even though we could only pick one person.

I have lots of thank yous to make. Firstly, the retweeters and blog readers who helped spread the word. @Mission2Wed @Cloggins, @Convo_pieces @becca_clare, @VSChinaHire, @knotsandkisses - I hope I've got everyone here, but if I haven't, please message me or leave a comment and I will add you in.

And then, to the photographers who responded. Let me just say right now that if you are looking for a good (nay, great) and reasonably-priced wedding photographer then you need to call these people. On my limited dealings with them, I can also say that these people are willing to go the extra mile and offer personal service. In short - they give a damn:

Katie Byram Photography (@katiebyramphoto)

Jameson Kergozou (@kergozou)

Alex Smith at Mytime Photography (@mytimephoto)

Mirrorbox Photography

And special thanks to the super-stylish Marie Man (you may also know her as @Marnova) for answering lots of questions. And the brilliant Hannah Dornford-May for doing the same.

(Really hoping I haven't missed anyone off. I had to write this post twice due to a crash perfectly timed for the exact moment I pressed 'publish'. If I have, please message me to say. I promise it wasn't intentional!)

One of the above is our wedding photographer - but I'm not going to say who just yet. As I may have mentioned - they are all amazing. I would hate for you to just visit the one link... Go and check them out, and tell your friends.

Thank you, internet, for being so bloody amazing. Hopefully normal service, and blog-posting regularity, can now resume!

photographer blues

2011-01-17T09:50:00.000-08:00

So I have been posting a little on Twitter about some stress with the photographer. Avid readers may remember that we had booked a friend to be our photographer. He's what you might call a keen and capable amateur, and he'd done a wedding before.

We went out to see him and discussed what we wanted. We said we loved what he did and we coo-ed over his pics. My initial worries about the unreliability of asking a friend melted away. We looked at all sorts of pics and we decided that a sort of 'reportage' feeling, with a few arty ones, was the way to go. He'd done it before. It was theoretically simple. It would be great fun.

We had an informal document which we agreed on with the style, etc, detailed. All that was left was for him to send a contract - we may be friends, but friendships are lost over not being clear - and as we were paying him (not an insubstantial amount for a friend) - we needed a contract, even a little thing.

In the meantime, I sent the occassional link to nice photos. He responded saying they were nice. I knew he wasn't going to emulate everything I sent - I just thought they were nice and some showed examples of shots that were nice and simple. It was all Nice. Not demanding. We'd already discussed what he'd take - and that was cool.

Five months we waited for a contract. I emailed every few weeks to ask and he replied that it was coming, he was just busy with work etc.

Until last Thursday, when I felt that now the wedding was just a few months off, we should have a contract if that was OK - just as a formality, just in case. And he replied that he'd actually been stalling because he wasn't sure he could give us what we wanted. Even though we'd talked about what we wanted. And agreed on it. And that was FIVE months ago.

So we sent an email reassuring him that we loved what he did, just as it was.

His reply?

You're very kind. I'll think about it over the weekend and let you know.

So today - after chasing for a reply - we got one. He's not sure he can do it and says he wants to pull out. It sounds like he could still be convinced if we really tried, but now I don't want to convince him. I don't want to beg him to do it when he doesn't want to, or for the result to be disappointing and for him to say 'well, I did warn you...'

Most of all, we want someone we can rely on - and who wants to do it. We don't have enough money for a full on professional - that is for sure. And though I've had some good recommendations, the wedding is in Somerset and those recommendations have a long way to travel - making their initially realistic and reasonable quotes somewhat stratospheric.

That's not to say I'm not grateful for the recommendations - please keep them coming - but when I say not much money, I mean definitely not four figures, as nice as those photographers might be. Not even approaching four figures. But a not-insignificant sum, plus travel and somewhere to sleep. Maybe enough for a student, or someone just setting up their business. We will of course feed whoever comes and make sure they have a good time along with everyone else. We just can't drop a grand on pics. And now we are left not knowing what to do.

definitely going to love my dress

2011-01-07T02:11:00.000-08:00

If you've arrived here from Love My Dress today then welcome!

Today I have officially been announced as the winner of the Love My Dress and House of Mooshki competition to win a dream wedding dress - made to any design I like.

I still can't believe it - I am over the moon and feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Thank you Love My Dress and House of Mooshki! More updates to follow...

here's what you could have won

2011-01-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

Today, a blog I love wrote a post that crystallised thoughts I've been having for a while. Thoughts about how much we manage to torture ourselves in the name of weddings.

The post I am referring to is this one, from the brilliant a Los Angeles Love. Becca at LAL is having a cool as hell wedding, with a DJ they love and food trucks and plants on the table and a lovely dress - and they are doing all of it between the two of them. Essentially it sounds like a massive party with a wedding at the centre, which is a model we are certainly aspiring to. Every time, I read this blog I find my confidence growing.

But today's post was all about the wobbles. About 'what the wedding won't be.' There won't be paper pom poms and bits of ephemera to photograph, and this bothers Becca, as it has bothered many of us in the past, myself included. There's a lot of justification for what there will not be and it reads like a post where she is rather exorcising these images from her brain. Begone, Martha Stewart! Get your stinking crafts out of my face! I'll do as I damn well please!

It's a sentiment I can get behind. I've felt it myself - weddingprettyoverload. The 'if I see another 1970s-tinted picture of a beautiful thin girl standing in an arty room looking wistful and showing us her shoes i am going to goddamn scream' feeling. That's not to say I don't like this stuff.

But my point is this - if even Becca, who is having a cool as hell wedding and showing people like me how to be confident - if even this lady gets these wobbles, then why? Who is torturing us? Who is forcing these pictures down our throats? Who is telling us that if we don't have crepe paper pom poms and artfully sourced bit of vintage then we will not be pretty enough? I am having a bit of a rerun of the end of this post, where I feel like the consumption of wedding magazines and blog is harming my sense of perspective.

Of course, the answer is that it is us. We are doing this to ourselves - we are reading the posts about the weddings of others and every time we do so, we mourn a little bit for the wedding we aren't going to have.

It is a form og torture - we are making ourselves feel a little more insignificant and going a little crazier every day. We know we can't do it all but all we do is make a decision and then challenge it, repeatedly, by looking at 'what we could have won' (wow, worked a 'Bullseye' reference into a wedding blog).

When we took our parents to see the venue, both sets said the same thing: we wish we could have been married somewhere like this. But neither of them were. One set married in a church hall a few weeks after one partner's redundancy (and cancelling almost EVERYTHING) and the other set married in a war zone. They had no pom poms, no luxury of months of organising, poring over blogs and magazines. They just did it with what they had, which is all you can do. Part of me feels embarrassed by the riches of time and choice at our disposal. We've got to find other ways to fill it than by torturing ourselves.

We do what we do, and we do it because that's us. That's it.

wonderstuff #1

2011-01-03T16:14:00.001-08:00

I'm not really one for smearing lots of gunk on my face, partly because I'm lazy and partly because I'm lucky - I inherited skin that lets me be lazy. Most of the time, it's ok - I just have the same problems/problem areas as most people. I've always cleansed, moisturised - but there are stubborn areas.

Eating well cleared up a huge number of skin issues (another thing to thank Slimming World for!) However, as part of the same 'playing at being a grown up' drive that has recently seen me buying my first leather handbag and renouncing £2.99 make up, I decided that I should sort my skin out properly, with the wedding as an ultimate goal.

Over recent months I have discovered these two little beauties: one for problems, one for all round improvement.

This slightly industrial looking tube is truly brilliant stuff. Vichy's 'normaderm nuit' is, to translate the beauty-ese, stuff you use overnight that makes your dodgy bits calm down nicely. It doesn't dry out like witch hazel but slowly, over a few days/weeks, you realise your chin/nose are clear and lovely. Great stuff.

This is the second lovely thing. Soap & Glory 'make yourself youthful rejuvenating face serum'. I'd been looking out for a serum after a free sample of some amazingly expensive stuff convinced me that it was a good thing. Also I turned 28 and birthdays always make me buy this sort of stuff. However - most serums I saw were way out of my price range. Then I saw this and tried it out.

It smells AMAZING - like chocolate orange - and I think the orangeyness has some sort of freshening/removing dead cells effect on your skin. All I know is that it feels great and smells amazing and that after two days of using it, J said: "what have you done to your face? It looks...I dunno... Sort of rosier, but all over. Not red rosy, just sort of...bright...good..." which is about as resounding an approval as I have ever had.

three stones

2010-12-21T06:04:00.000-08:00

(source)

So, in the final Slimming World weigh in before Christmas, I hit a milestone. Or a mile-three-stone, as you may have guessed from the genius image above. It's funny, reading back to things like this post, when I'd just lost one stone, and thinking back to those first few weeks when I felt sure it wasn't going to work because everyone around me was losing at double the speed.

Truth be told, I'd hoped to be at four stones gone by now, but I am very happy to have hit three. I'd aimed for 1lb a week, making four stones in a year, but life does sometimes get in the way. But I lost this weight still going out for meals, still drinking, still enjoying myself, still eating bread, potatoes, rice and pasta, as well as all other foods. This now means that I've become a mad evangalist for Slimming World. Every time I hear about someone doing some daft diet I just want to shake them and tell them about doing it sensibly. But people won't believe you can do it without hardship, no matter what you tell them.

My aim is now to be 12-stones something by the time I look for a dress. That's another two stones or so off. I'm supposed to do it by March. Wish me luck...

writing the ceremony and the any campaign

2010-12-10T00:55:00.000-08:00

Tis the season to neglect your blog, tra la la la laaa etc etc etc.

What can I say? It's almost-Christmas, and this means my early morning blog-writing slots have been taken up with planning parties, emailing friends regarding annual Christmas meet ups; buying invitation-making stationery items (helloo Martha Stewart paper punches) and investigating wedding cake options.

So today, we see our ceremony-conducting friend again, but this time not for a gig or dinner or at the pub. Tonight, we are having him round to ours for wine and takeaway and to talk about the wedding - ie, the ceremony, and what we might write.

It's at his instigation too - had he not suggested that it was probably time to do it, we might have procrastinated until we had a week to go. But he's got 'ideas' he says, and given that by the time Christmas and the New Year are over, we'll be just eight months away (HOLY CRAP), he's definitely right to make us start now. I don't think this will be sorted tonight.

We've got some suggestions from the various websites, but christ, is it hard to know where to begin. I like elements of the traditional ceremony and given that people think we're mad hippy pagans for holding the wedding on the top of a hill as it is, I think that having some of this structure will reassure some of those present.

We're also keen to avoid cringeyness - so we won't be inviting people to sing anything en masse I've not got experience of this ever properly working out. At least in a church people expect to have hymns but on a hill? Hmn. I don't think our guests are the type to burst out in spontaneous unaccompanied song. So some vague structure, no cringeing. That's all we have right now.

The ceremony presents logistical problems too. For example: music. We've got some songs in mind, but how do we get them played up on a hill with no electricity? Anyway, this is not Ceremony Friend's problem (it's the Best Man/Musical Director's. No, really! He's on the case.)

So here it goes. ACTUAL MARRIAGE STUFF is happening TONIGHT. Not cake, not make up, not bunting. Actual words that make us married. Well, not technically. This technically happens at 10.15am when most people will still be in bed, and we leg it off to the register office.

And on that subject, you may notice the lovely bluey-yellow button at the top right of this page. This is my indication of support for the Any Campaign.

This is a wonderful petition that highlights the madness that is English marriage law. Currently, you can't get married outside or in an unregistered building. Why? No one seems to be able to justify this ludicrous law. And it doesn't apply in Scotland, so it's clearly possible to get rid of it without the foundations of society crumbling away.

Anyway - go there, sign the petition and if you have a blog, pop the button on there and let them know. And maybe one day, your children will be able to have a mad hippy/pagan/traditional wedding on top of a beautiful hill.

Engage-iversary

2010-11-27T02:35:00.001-08:00

J and I got engaged a year ago today. We were in a pub in Oxford, celebrating eight years together, when he surprised the hell out of me with a Hula Hoop and a note in a ring box. A year ago tomorrow, we bought the ring.

many lovely blogs

2010-11-26T06:27:00.000-08:00

The lovely My Spare Thoughts was kind enough to pass on this lovely blog award...

...and the deal is that I have to pass this on to 15 other blogs that I love. These are below, but I have realised that many of my wedding blogger pals are now wed - they've done it! I love reading their blogs, but would love to hear from any more ladies like me too - still at the planning stage!

Here are my 15, in no particular order...

Adventures of a Dizzy Girl - musings and wisdom from the wintery North (Glasgow, to be precise)
Anna and the Ring - everyone knows Anna - and she's just about to do the deed - any time now, in fact...
A Los Angeles Love - brilliantness from across the Pond
Ms Awsome Weds - these two ladies from across the pond blog about their recent celebration
Wellies and Vogue - oh the pictures, the pictures! Blog about wedding and life in the countryside and all of it envy-inducing
Peonies and Polaroids - wedding photographer's personal blog, with recent updates about having tiny twins. Beautiful
Eat the Damn Cake - a contender for best blog ever, which essentially says: love yourself you clever little beautiful things, and enjoy some cake while you're at it
Cake for Breakfast - Cloggins blogs about her recent wedding - read back and see her preparations
Any other wedding - Fliss and Aisling blog about recent nuptuals and other things
Henry Reigns - Kiara just got married! Congrats!
Becca Loves - keep following this one, more exciting developments in the offing, I'm sure..!
Another Damn Wedding - another just married lady, across the pond. Good stuff.
Daydreams in Lace - a UK wedded lady!
Lottie really loves - a wedding is coming up soon for Lottie...as ever, i'm hooked...
A Cupcake Wedding - wonderful stuff about how a wedding came together
Love My Dress - a blog that focuses on the beautiful and real and is run by a wonderful pillar of the wedding blog community, Annabel

guest post at Any Other Wedding

2010-11-25T05:51:00.000-08:00

I am very lucky today to have a guest post published by the lovely and newly-wedded Fliss over at Any Other Wedding.

The post is about that bizarre twilight time between unmarried and married - the evening and morning before.

If you don't already know AOW, then you should. It's a great site full of wisdom and honestly and humour. What more could you want from a wedding blog?!

Thanks Fliss!

updates

2010-11-25T01:05:00.000-08:00

I've just realised that I left a few things hanging on this blog for a while, such as this post about my weight and going on holiday. I'm sure you're not exactly desperate to know how it turned out, but I'm going to tell you anyway...

After a three week break, I lost 1.5lbs. Which was good. And then the next week, I gained 2lbs. And then I lost 2.5. So where does that put me? I think since before leaving for holiday, I am 2lbs lighter.

I have been plateauing, and I am currently in the throes of 'upping my game' (or 'downing it'?) on the diet front. despite having been to a chocolate tasting evening last night (obligatory for work, to be fair) and having our year's anniversary of getting engaged on Saturday (which we only remembered two days ago, rather amusingly).

I'm going to start posting diet updates every week again. It's not that I had been off the plan, rather that I had been pushing it to its very limits every week - something I had got away with before, but now there's a fair whack of weight gone, it seems I can get away with no longer.

So that's the diet. I've also now got hair and make up people, and probably a baker too for the cake sorted. I'm feeling pretty ok about this now. Surely there's not much else to do (apart from rings, dress and booze, right? Or have I forgotten something else?)

And then there is this post - the one where I thought I might quit blogging because I sort of freaked out about the pressure. Which was silly, because the only pressure being applied was by myself. Would my wedding look like x ,y or z? Would I have that carefree sylph-like stylishness that seems such an essential prerequisite? Would my tables be photogenic?

Then I thought again about some of the blog weddings. There are couples, jumping, Converse trainers, stylish place settings, symbolic hearts and chalkboards and all the rest. But where are the people? Where are the dancing kids and uncles? Where is the drunk father-in-law? Conspicuously absent from the photoshoot. I'm now thinking of these as photoshoots, rather than weddings.

Our wedding will look like what it looks like. I will just buy the things I like (J will like them too, he's very relaxed) and people will eat and get drunk and if the place does not look like one hell of a party has taken place at the end of the night, I will be disappointed.

If it looks nice on photos - great. If not, then as long as it looks great in my head and my memory, and those of everyone else, I will be happy.

how to buy a wedding cake

2010-11-23T01:04:00.000-08:00

(source)

...or find a hairdresser, or someone to do your make up, or anything, really, wedding related, if you don't want the traditional fruit cake brick, or helmet of wedding hair with ringlets poking out of it. If you want those, this list might not apply as those things appear easy to find.

1. Find someone online you like the look of - modern style, tasty looking cake (if we're talking cake), friendly, good reviews, nice pictures. This looks perfect.

2. Get a quote for what you want.

3. Freak the freak out. What??? That is SO MUCH money - I can't pay that!

4. Shop around.

5. Shop around.

6. Shop around.

7. Become increasingly despondent. All you can find are bakers who charge through the roof for what you definitely don't want. All the hairdressers can show you are pictures of ladies with solid and very flammable-looking hair piled onto their heads , sometimes with a strand teased out and fixed into a ringlet that will last the honeymoon. All the make up ladies show rows of happy brides and bridesmaids looking like they've been sprayed orange. All of these cost between 20 quid less or 150 pounds more (generally more) than the nice person you originally got in touch with.

8. Panic. What if the first person, whose quote now looks staggeringly, jaw-droppingly reasonable - and with no risk of solid piles of hair, or an orange face, or a fruit brick-cake - has been booked?

9. Email and essentially, crawl back. Feel embarrassed about how nice they are about it.

10. Repeat for pretty much everything you have to book. I have so far done this for hair, make up and a cake. Well done me.

aha, there you are

2010-11-16T10:02:00.001-08:00

So, my wedding mojo returned! It actually reappeared a couple of days before the wedding fair, when I got a couple of ideas from blogs - some lovely wooden place holders (see above) and then some hair ideas. I found myself ringing J to ask his opinion. And that's when it struck me...

If I like this, I can actually do it. This will really actually appear at our wedding - which is now just a few months away.

See, while I always wanted to get married, a wedding never crossed my mind. I came into this with no ideas whatsoever. Just a small guidance from J, who when asked what he wanted in a wedding, replied: "Hogroast. Beer - ale. Good music" and I thought: 'well, it'll probably be on a farm, then, if he wants a hogroast'. I'm love big country houses but never had a strong desire to get married in one. I like farms. That's all we had.

God knows how I have formed anything thus far. I just keep clipping out pictures and saving links and have this vague idea that somehow, it will just work itself out. I hope it does...

pfft

2010-11-11T01:11:00.000-08:00

That noise I made in the subject line was me shrugging. Wedding? Pfft.

Since returning from holiday, I've remembered that the cake maker cancelled. The other day, my hairdresser cancelled (you may remember what a struggle it was to find someone free on that day for under a corking 300 quid).

And what have I done about all this? Pfft. Nowt. I got another hairdresser's number. Haven't called it. I got some replies to emails I sent to cakemakers back when I had motivation. Not followed them up. I realised with a shock that I am meant to be sending invitations out in 8 weeks, and that I had a mad plan to make them. I did manage to muster up the energy to ask a friend (who once made invitations for a living) if she could maybe tell me what to do at some point in the next month.

I am going to the Vintage Wedding Fair on Sunday accompanied by another betrothed friend, all bar two of the best ladies (who LOVE this sort of thing) and some other ladies, while all the menfolk visit the nearby pub (I feel there may be many grooms in that pub that day - it'll be like a creche for husbands-in-training). I am worried that they will all be more excited than me, but also hopeful that this could potentially solve the wedding and cake dilemmas and help me get my wedding mojo back.

Fliss gets married!

2010-11-05T09:40:00.000-07:00

The HUGEST congratulations to Fliss of Any Other Wedding, who gets married tomorrow.

Best wishes, lovely!

the timing

2010-11-05T09:37:00.000-07:00

According to the wisdom of ages, it's 'all in the timing'. It's a useful little phrase, but one that is entirely useless, unless you know what 'the timing' is.

Luckily, when you get engaged, there are plenty of people willing to tell you the right time to do everything. But you know where this is going. Most of them tell you to chill out, as if booking a hairdresser with more than a year to go makes you an obsessed Bridezilla.

When we decided on a time to get married, there were plenty of people in shock that we'd got just over a year and a half to wait. Therefore the refrain of 'you've got AAAGES' was heard time and again. And I came to believe it myself. Friends had got married nine months after getting engaged. It could be done.

Forgive me if you know all this, or if you just don't care. I wanted to seem laid back, unflustered. So I waited.

It was something of a shock, therefore, when I tried to start booking people at what I'd been told was a reasonable length of time from the wedding (around a year to go) that many people were booked up (especially the cheap ones) and had been for months. Damn. And when I mentioned to people that I was having trouble finding a hairdresser who didn't want to charge me £250 to do something to my hair, they expressed the same sentiment: " Really? But you've got AGES to go!"

Similarly, when I had to change the registry office location, I had to literally beg the registrar to squeeze us in. Genuinely beg. There was nothing for us, and this was with 14 months to go. That's what happens when you get married in a rural location. Not many registry offices in the vicinity.

That was when I decided to stop listening to most people, unless they'd done this themselves. You are planning a big party - probably the biggest you'll ever throw. This is no time for creating stress. This is no time to be procrastinating over whether you're bothering a hairdresser 'too soon'. They don't care - they like to get bookings. It's good for business. Ditto everyone else you will deal with. Save it up because everyone tells you to and you will generate yourself a whole heap of stress.

Oh, and halfway through writing this post and as if to prove my point, the hairdresser I had triumphantly booked before I went on hols called to say she's decided to take a longer maternity leave and so had to cancel. Damn.

this could go one of two ways

2010-10-12T05:05:00.000-07:00

So ladies (gents?), I am about to go on holiday for two weeks. This is great news, and also, slightly panic-inducing.

Not that I'm ungrateful for the wonderful holiday. But I am slightly panicking about its effect on my diet, which despite my best efforts, has seen me hover around the same 5lbs for about two months now.

I am surprised at myself for being so bothered. I am both desperate to relax, and desperate not to regain this damnable weight. I can't believe I am worried. I'm disappointed in myself for feeling this way, though will feel mighty disappointed in myself if I gain weight too.

Part of me is planning to make butter, on the basis that I can only eat what I make, and making butter involves a large physical effort, and I'll feel quite proud of myself if I manage it.

Another part of me is planning to go running and walking up massive hills, so that I can eat some cake.

I've never been this worried before. I've always just sodded it and enjoyed myself. I don't really like this at all, and I can only assume it's the natural progression of dichotomous (real word?) thoughts from the post below.

Yes, I am on a diet that allows me to eat as much as I want of most foods. I can have figs, artichokes, wild musrooms, risotto, pasta, potatoes, steak. But sadly, the list doesn't include criossants, stinky and disintegrating french cheese and red wine. Those count. I can have them, but I can't have them with abandon.

Why am I depressed about this? I don't know. I feel pathetic, but may actually cry if I gain more than a couple of lbs.

some things i've learned

2010-10-07T01:39:00.000-07:00

Some things I've learned about dieting:

(image from here)

- it's not that hard. You can do it, you just need to follow a few rules.
- it's damned hard. You have to follow the rules for a long time. I will probably have to sort of follow them forever.

- it's not just about food. There are bigger things in your life and you can appreciate them more once you've broken down that relationship a little bit.
- sometimes it's about a lot more than food. That cheesecake my friend baked to celebrate buying his first flat? Yeah. I'm going to eat the piece he cut for me. Who wants to be that girl, the one who turns down a small gift, a celebration. Food has meaning greater than satiation. But not all the time.

- some things can be turned down easily. It's just about saying "no".
- life is not about saying "no". It's about saying "yes", and living, and enjoying yourself. You need to go out to dinner.

- you can speed up your weigh loss by eating more fruit and vegetables
- in order to speed up your weightloss, you HAVE to eat more vegetables. And no, you can't put butter on them.

(edit - i thought of another one:
- small things don't matter. This bit of salad dressing/bit of x, y, z won't hurt.
- all the small things together? Yes, they matter. They are all that matters.)

Life is not just about looking a certain way. But it makes a lot of things in life easier (climbing stairs, shopping for clothes without crying) if you err towards the regular sized end of the spectrum. I'm all for being happy whatever size you are. But I wasn't.

Everyone, I would suggest without exception, is too hard on themselves the majority of the time. I would like to find whoever came up with the idea that you can have 'fat ankles' and give them a smack. They are ANKLES. They perform a useful perambulatory function and hold your feet onto your legs.

Life is full of dichotomies. You want one thing, but you know you should do another. Self acceptance versus empowerment and change. Diet Coke versus wine. Short-term enjoyment versus long-term satisfaction. The fact that I've always loved my body and been grateful for all of it versus the fact that I have still cried in changing rooms. How do you square that?

Anyway. Sometimes there isn't much coherence to things and that applies to writing blogs too. Random thoughts today.

PS All of this makes me glad that I found the best damn blog in the world. Eat the Damn Cake by blogger Kate Fridkis makes me overwhelmingly happy. When I see a new post appear in my reader, I save it up for later, for time when I've got a cup of tea and can fully digest and appreciate her words of wisdom and joy. Kate writes about how she never understood why anyone should feel unattractive, while understanding that we do, and we're human. And she advocates remembering that sometimes (all of the time?) you should just eat that slice of cake and be happy. A message we can all get behind, I think.

urgent help needed

2010-10-01T03:44:00.000-07:00

OK so it turns out the register office I formerly suggested was 'grotty' now only has two slots available, and even those are squeezing us in. And I checked it on Google Street View and it's not actually that grotty at all - or better than I remember.

I have to let them know today which is better (and neither is ideal):

10.15am, at which we get married in jeans and then go back to the venue and relax and get ready

11.45 am, at which we get married in wedding attire and then go back to the farm and wait for guests to arrive before we do the bit up on the hill

I need to let them know by 4pm. Help! Which is better? J still doesn't care if it's the day before but I do. Will I care if I do it in jeans? Help!

the process of actually getting legally married...

2010-10-01T00:57:00.000-07:00

...is turning out to be harder than we thought.

One of the things we learned during our visit to the venue at the weekend was that our plan to go to the nearby registry office in the morning before the outdoor ceremony will probably not work. This is given that it's a Saturday, the office is in a small market town and the traffic is always horrendous. Just to get there, we'd be looking at an hour. Then an hour back afterwards. I don't want to be sitting in traffic for two hours on the wedding day.

But here's the thing. There is another registry office closer. But it's horrible. Horrible building, opposite a supermarket car park in a town that is often dominated by the odour of the nearby chemical plant. It's not what I had in mind (the other registry office is in a beautiful tudor building).

There's also a local hotel that will just do the ceremony. The room hire is £180 - reasonable. Getting the registrars to come out - £320. Making the total cost £500. Not reasonable, given that going to the small room at the registry office is £43.50.

J thinks we should do it the day before. He feels that it's 'just a piece of paper, just signing a contract' and I know that this is a totally logical position. But I really can't feel the same, no matter how hard I try. I really don't want to be married when we go to sleep the night before our wedding. It feels like a sham. We can't afford £500. So the grotty registry office it is. (For new readers - hello! - we are being married up on a hill by a friend that afternoon. This is the real wedding - the declaration in front of all our family and friends, but we have to do the legal bit first.)

So ladies, and any gents that might read this, I urge you to sign the ANY campaign petition, set up by photographers Tino & Pip, which needs to reach 1000 signatures in order to be delivered to the government. This campaign urges those in power to reconsider the laws that state you must be married between the hours of 8am and 6pm, in a building with foundations and a roof.

Fellow bloggers - will you help spread the word?

thank you gaynor!

2010-10-01T00:51:00.001-07:00

Just a little post to say a big THANK YOU to Gaynor at Our Day By Design who has informed me that I have won her blog competition for a £50 voucher from CSN Stores!

Thank you Gaynor and CSN! I shall enjoy trawling through the sites to find something to go with my cow rolling pin...

venue visit

2010-09-27T01:46:00.000-07:00

(photo by me)

This weekend was spent visiting the venue with both mine and J's parents.

Beautiful countryside and weather, copious amounts of tea and lots of blackberry and sloe picking meant that what could have been a stressful couple of days was actually utterly lovely. My mum found a four-leafed clover at the farm, which she wrapped in tissue and made me press in a 1950s film encyclopaedia that J's dad had found for us at a charity shop that morning ("I thought you could put this in your loo. It would be good toilet reading.")

(photo by me)

There were scones, there was booze and it was peaceful. They walked up the hill with us to where we're going to get married and declared it lovely.

They talked about their own weddings: my parents was in a church and then a church hall for the reception, six weeks after my dad was made redundant. They cancelled everything when he lost his job, but everyone rallied round. A friend took the photos and another friend became their chauffeur, even buying a velvet jacket, a cap and flowers for the parcel shelf of his brand new cream Ford Cortina. Food was brought to the hall made by aunties and apparently everything went off great, aside from my Grandad pouring a pint of ale over my mum's dress, but she didn't mind. They've been married 28 years.

J's parents were married after knowing each other for just a month, and having only had two dates. They both worked for the foreign service in Africa and were about to enter a war zone. The only reason they were allowed to get married so quickly was because they both had security clearance (any man in the service who wanted to get married had to have his wife-t0-be cleared, a process that could take months). I believe they have been married 30-something years.

There were just two hairy moments. The first was crossing a dual carriageway with my mother-in-law to be driving us ladies to the florist. The sun was glaring, she had no sunglasses and we were trying to turn right. "Tell me when to turn, I can't see a thing!" is not something you want to hear on any road, let alone a fast one.

The other moment was when the same mother-in-law to be confessed that she had started buying baby clothes. N0 - there is no secret - I'm not pregnant. She just really really really would like it if I was. Cripes.

crappy dress shopping experience

2010-09-15T05:29:00.001-07:00

(image from here)

So you know I'm losing weight. Part of this - or rather, the end aim of this, is that I want to be a certain weight before I start looking for a wedding dress.

Currently, I've got a little way to go, but I'd hope to be at this weight by next spring, which is six months ahead, though it might be later.

So yesterday, I decided to ask in my local bridal shop: how late can you leave it to buy a dress. See, I don't know what I'm doing here, and I figure they might.

I walked in - there was an 'open' sign on the door, after all, and I just had a little question.

At the end of the shop were assistants helping a lady into a giant dress. But there were many assistants - maybe about 8 - and only four of them were doing anything (cooing over the bride to be, mostly).

Four of them were just standing there. And then I walked in, and the bell rang on the door, and they continued to stand there loking at me.

After about 10 seconds of staring at me like I'd dared swear in front of the Pope or performed a dance dressed as a dog turd, one of them came down to me.

"Yes???"

"Hi there. I'm getting married next year and I just wondered how long in advance I should be buying a dress. I'd heard six months, but does it really need to be so long?"

BLANK STARE.

Another assistant comes over, clearly incredibly annoyed that I have dared enter the shop.

"Yes????"

I repeat the question. Her answer:

"Yes. It has to be six months. If you want your Dream Dress." She definitely capitalised it. And now she clearly considers the matter closed.

"What happens if you have less than six months?"

"Well they you might not get your Dream Dress. You might have to wear one of these, which only come in certain sizes [casting a glance up and down my still-buxom frame] and other people will have worn them."

So anyway. I have yet to try on a wedding dress and one toxic shop has already soured the experience.

I probably won't be buying my dress there.

it's the whole thing

2010-09-09T07:28:00.000-07:00

I went to a wedding the other weekend. It was a truly amazing day - and after a week of torrential rain, the sun came out over the cliffs of Cornwall.

In the late afternoon, in that lull between formalilty and drunken abandon, the groom said to me:

"It doesn't feel like enough, really. We just stood there and said: I do, and I do, and signed our names. I can't believe that's it and we're married."

But that's not it, I thought. It's not just the name in a book and the 'I-do-s'. It's the whole thing: the rituals of the whole day. It's the feasting, and the dancing, and the symbolic cutting and sharing of cake. It's the feeding your loved ones. It's being showered with petals and the singing. We're just another tribe, after all; marking these important days with rituals, because that's what you do.

I think I said some version of this to him, much less poetically, after having two cocktails and a load of fizzy stuff. Not sure if it came out quite right, but I've thought about it since.

That's why it matters, sometimes to other people, that you do these things. To the 'elders' specifically: the white dress; the name changing; the little things that carry on.

I thought I would be rebellious, to start with: blue dress, my own name. But seeing that these things matter to people makes me think again. Why do they want them? Why do I not want them? I can see why it would be upsetting to lose these things.

wicked invitations

2010-09-09T03:08:00.001-07:00

No, not mine, but Kiara's from Henry Reigns.

Check those bad boys out. They are blummin ace. Retro book covers - such a genius idea!

genius idea

2010-09-08T06:25:00.000-07:00

Map envelopes - print them yourself. I can TOTALLY see a use for these...

http://www.mapenvelope.com/

what i lose by not having bridesmaids

2010-09-08T06:03:00.001-07:00

As soon as I knew I was getting married, I decided I wouldn't have bridesmaids. Partly this is because I don't love the idea. I've been a bridesmaid twice and I think my mind was made up then.

But also partly it's because I don't know who I would pick. I don't have any sisters or close cousins. I don't have any natural choices among my friends - no one I'd consider close enough.

But I do have a large, looser group of friends, many of whom have been invited to be 'best ladies' - which means they can wear what they like, that they may be asked to help with some things, and sport a flower somewhere on their person on the day.

This brings its own set of problems: if it's just a loose grouping, then where do you draw the line? How close do friends have to be to wear a flower? And who do you exclude? This is a dilemma indeed. Because I really can't just have everyone. And there are some people I don't feel close enough to, but who may expect to be included.

Today, I've been musing on what I'm missing out on by not having a chief 'maid'. Someone who is OBLIGED to listen to my moanings (heh) and help me through this. Someone I can call just because I am floundering. Someone who gets as excited as I do about the whole thing. Someone to come dress shoppping with (those accompanying me will be mum and mum-in-law - is this an insane decision?). Someone to feed me Gaviscon and croissants on the morning itself.

I'm lucky to have a group of lovely ladies. But after all that, I am now considering formalising or upgrading them to 'maids'. Mostly because otherwise I run the risk of having 15-25 best ladies, some of whom I haven't seen in yonks, but who must be included because we half the other girls from the same group of friends are on the list.

resolution

2010-09-07T10:09:00.000-07:00

So I think I've worked out why I was feeling so curmudgeonly.

When I had ages and ages to go, talking about this stuff was fun, inconsequential. I liked wallowing in the ideas and thinking about stuff.

Now, I don't have ages to go. I have less than a year, and to be honest, that sort of crept up on me, even though we marked the day with a picnic/engagement party. The summer was jam packed, with barely a free weekend. The autumn is shaping up similarly, and you know what winter is like (well, the fun bit before Christmas anyway. The depressing bit after is quieter... though probably won't be next year...) I don't really have any free time until November. I need to do invitations by Jan. The card we bought is now hidden in a cupboard and we've done SOD ALL.

Now, it turns out, I quite like the thought of keeping something for myself, having done all this sharing. The wedding is for us and our family and friends - I have ideas now and I just have to get them from my brain and into physical form.

So I don't think I'll be sharing the intricacies of my invitations. I might moan about them, or muse on elements of them here or maybe a quick 'how-to' if I found something useful, or if I think someone else might, but I'm not sure that I'll be blogging a six stage post on the paper stock, the envelope liners (a whole new concept to me) and all the rest.

I might be instead posting on things like the idea of changing my name, or how to work out some of the harder stuff. Stuff that the wisdom of the lovely community can help with. And probably some questions on why everything has suddenly become so damned expensive.

in which I offend everyone

2010-08-27T06:13:00.000-07:00

Dear readers, help me. This post was written last week - one of many posts where I try to come to terms with feeling, well, a bit weird about the whole blogging thing in general. I have been puzzled, bewildered and downright down about the whole thing. So yes, it's cynical. But I think all of the below still stands. I'm uncomfortable, and struggling to reconcile blogging with me. Quitting blogging is on the cards. Please help me work out what to do.

Now: the post...

So you may have noticed that I haven't posted a lot lately. Yes, I've been busy with work and all the rest, but that wasn't the reason. It was a conscious decision. The reason? I've turned into a complete cynic. It's not pretty. I had to step back.

It started with a small reaction to oversharing. "Why," I thought, "must I share my every waking thought with the world?" Small moments were being ruined by my brain making a mental note: "ooh, significant! Must blog this!" So I had to take a step back. My life does not need another layer of mental commentary and when I'm having a nice time, I don't want to be mentally wording a witty blog post about it.

Then I went to see the friend who will also be our photographer. Some interesting conversations took place (and I realise, the following will be mortally offensive to some people. I am sorry, people. I like you. I really do):

Me: [performing a mime] "So they stand there, holding their trousers and dress up so you can see their shoes. Which are normally Converse."
Them: [Photographer friend plus wife] What the f*ck? You can't see their faces? They take pictures of their shoes???
Me: Yes. And they jump a lot. And sometimes they hold things up like signs saying Mr and Mrs, or Polaroids of their face.

I later showed the assembled a pic of a couple both holding signs on an engagement shoot with arrows to each other saying something like 'cupcake' and 'muffin' and the look of horror on their faces was exquisite. Then Photo friend said: "I feel like I could throw up." Then there were jokes about him doing some shots right there and then of us gazing dreamily at each other and lying on the grass. This was a JOKE, btw.

And I thought: when did it all become such a display? This isn't me.

And I know it is not: no wedding is a show (except are. And you're on show. And people are judging you. So it sort of is unless you elope. And even that is a statement about how you want to be seen).

I feel there is a bit of a p*ssing contest going on here, with everyone competing to be the most alternative alternative there is; to spend the least, to be the most crafy. Or competing to see who can opt out of all this the most.

And we're all agonising over the details, or making a show of not caring. And it's even such a cliche to say that none of this matters, and that your wedding will be different. Because will it, really? We've covered every base, considered every option. I am starting to feel like there's nothing left for me. I'm losing excitement.

And by opting out of what I feel to be traditional and trying to do something different, I now feel like a cliche myself. I even read the other day that 'bunting was over'. Well excuse me. None of my friends or family think it's over. It's just a fricking wall decoration. I think blogging is harming my sense of perspective.

Not everything is a statement of adherence or defiance to tradition, or to a new, modern vision of alternative perfection. It's not always a statement. Except it is if you blog it.

by the numbers

2010-08-13T03:48:00.000-07:00

This week:

Friends of friends I have Facebook wedding stalked: 5
Coffees drank: 1 (willpower cracked 20 minutes ago)
Lbs gained: 1
Wedding things done: 1 (my sort of rate)
Time taken doing said wedding thing: 2.5 minutes
Times other people have mentioned the wedding: 8, and this will potentially quadruple this weekend. Maybe even sextuple or octuple.

blackboard plant pots

2010-08-05T02:57:00.000-07:00

This is a lovely idea, from Design Sponge - make your own blackboard paint (surprisingly easy) and then paint up some plant pots!

home

2010-08-01T15:17:00.000-07:00

(The M1 north, in the rain. Taken by me.)

This weekend, I went to visit my parents at home. It was a regular visit; a trip out, a family meal. Spot of shopping with my Mum. Pork chops for dinner.

My old room has just been redecorated, almost a decade after I left to go to university. I returned at holidays, and for a few months afterwards, but the room stayed the same until a few months ago.

Now my brother has left home too, his room is a sort of mixture of half of his things, with my Mum and Dad's stuff slowly encroaching (I noticed sewing books, where once was an over-sized stereo).

His notice board, once filled with homework to-do lists and missives from ex-girlfriends is still there. The only thing on it now is pinned in the bottom corner: a photo of my Dad, aged 20-something, laughing at something and looking for all the world exactly like my brother.

Before I left, I went upstairs and wandered in absent mindedly. I stood there for a while, looking at that photo and his pictures still on the walls and thinking about the baby he's having with his partner. Philip Larkin kept going round in my head:

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,

Shaped to the comfort of the last to go

As if to win them back.

a traitor to the cause?

2010-07-30T08:57:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that there have been no diet updates for a while. This is not because I've fallen off the wagon - I definitely haven't. But because I felt like a bit of a traitor to the cause.

Non traditional wedding blog land - which I think I can safely say, is where we pretty much all live - is all about being searingly honest and practicing love and self acceptance. I keep reading blogs where people talk about how they've accepted their weight in the run up to their wedding, and blogs that make a point of celebrating deliciously curvy brides.

These are great things. I love that it's this way. Self-acceptance = effing brilliant.

But I felt like that by posting my weight loss up here, I was somehow being a bit of a traitor to all that. Shouldn't I be practicing being happy as I am?

(You should all know, by the way, that I'm talking about more than a few kilos here. I still have much weight to lose.)

I don't think it has to be this way. Self acceptance is good, but then so is self-awareness and knowing what matters to you.

We all know that weddings are a stake stuck in the ground of life: a markerpost, an important point that we want to remember. That's why we spend money on them and spend so long thinking about the ritual of it all, even if we're going against the tide. Rituals they still are.

I had decided long ago to lose some weight. I was sick of feeling like I wasn't myself, and like my body was an impediment to my life. The knowledge of the wedding added to that: the stake in the ground held a post saying: 'this is the start of a new phase in your life. How do you want it to begin?'

Yes, I'm a dieting bride-to-be. What a terrible cliche. But we're all going on, or have been on journeys here (ugh, I sound like I'm on some sort of reality TV show) and here I am, on two.

We make a big point of being accepting of curves and of people of all shapes and sizes. I certainly know I do. Happiness, not size, is what matters.

But dieting is the big shame, implying judgement of people who aren't dieting and of people who accept their shape. It's neither of these things. But considered, sensible dieting - a change in the shape you accept - should be as celebrated and accepted as any blog post on why you love yourself, and everyone else, just as they/you are.

I love that I'm losing weight.

(For those of you wondering: just over two stones (12.7kg) lost, four or five (25-31kg) more to go)

on asking your friend to marry you

2010-07-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

So at the weekend (you may have seen the drunken tweet), we asked our friend to marry us. Not as in put rings on our fingers (duh!), but as in conduct our ceremony.

A friend who's never done anything like this before. For two people who dont' really know what they're doing but just have an inclination that this could be fun and mean something good.

But to begin the story proper, let's go back a few steps.

When we first got engagaed, J joked and said we should ask this friend to marry us. He's got the right sort of personality to manage a crowd, and once, years ago, as a sort of joke, got ordained on the internet (not that we're religious, it just seemed like a relevant daft detail to add in here). I agreed that he would be brilliant.

But I didn't like to ask a friend, and as you may have seen from previous posts, I thought we should get a humanist as a sort of middingly official option.

So we went and met the humanist. She was very nice. But J was not keen. Not keen at all.

"Why would we have a stranger do it? We might as well go to a church and have a vicar that doesn't know us as have someone else who doesn't know us."

Also, humanists weddings aren't cheap.

J was set on asking the friend from the start. I wanted to as well, but part of me felt bad asking a friend and thought a more formal option would go down better with our families.

As it turned out, I was wrong. We would ask our amazing friend.

So we met our friend at the pub. I'd asked J to let me be the one to ask him. We started drinking.

We drank some more.

Then we squeezed in another before going to the restaurant.

Then we tootled off for dinner. We drank an entire bottle of wine over starters. Then we got a second

J kept looking at me. I couldn't honestly conceive of how to broach the subject. So the second the friend mentioned the wedding (in passing, I may add), J leapt in.

"Actually, we needed to ask you something about that."

Cue me. Everyong looking at me.

"Ummm... Well. Umm."

Then altogether in a rush:

"Wellwhenwefirstgotengaged, Jsaidweshouldaskyoutomarryus, half-joking"

Then calmer:

"But then we thought about it, and it didn't seem like such a joke. We went to meet a humanist but it's not for us. We thought a friend could do it, maybe - but the only friend who we know could do the most amazing job, is you."

If I didn't know how to ask, then he didn't really know how to answer. He said yes immediately, though flustered and he kept saying it was the most amazing thing to ask and a complete honour."

We all hugged many times. By this time, however, we were red wine-happy, muddling our words, knocking bits of food on the floor and very nearly causing a red wine lake across the table. I think there might have been some slightly misty eyes. There were certainly some brilliant hangovers.

congratulations...

2010-07-26T03:29:00.000-07:00

...to My Spare Thoughts', who is now betrothed!

Hope you had an amazing day - and continue to have them for evermore.

We want to hear all about it!

quick repositioning

2010-07-26T01:54:00.000-07:00

Sooo. Last week, I may or may not have been thinking that I wasn't so fussed about the little details - that they seemed like a lot of work and that maybe they weren't important.

Well, in the grand scheme of things, they aren't important - not compared to basically joining myself to another person. But after spending two full hours on the amazing iDiY last night, I sure as hell want some of these nice bits of stuff.

That's why it's good to have a blog, see. So all you lovely people can share in my stupid circular thought processes and fickleness.

(All photos from iDiY)

the details

2010-07-20T08:18:00.000-07:00

I love looking at wedding pics. On Facebook (hello friends of friends - do you know I'm stalking your wedding?), on blogs, in magazines.

I find myself cooing over all the little details. OoOOOOoooh. Look at those lovely little things on the tables. Look at the favours. Look at those cute letters and the arty craftness of it all.

And then I think: Hmm. I am not sure about this.

If you look at our wedding, from a distance, I like to think you'd see a big group of tipsy people all acting daft.

If you look at the photos, I think you'll see people. And then more people. Maybe us. And then maybe a nice view.

In years to come, I'm going to want to look back at the pictures of people, and us. Maybe one or two of the view.

I'm not sure I will ever want to look at an artfully arranged table displays or other bits of crafty ephemera or photos of my shoes looking arty in the grass with the wedding rings around the heel? Or will I?

If there are details, I think they need to be edible. Sweets are good. Letters are horrendously expensive. Bunting is good - it can be made in large volumes and at low cost. Massive jars of sweets are good. Tasty.

But what else will people remember? Do these things matter?

washing up

2010-07-19T06:28:00.000-07:00

So we were trying to have a serious conversation about the act of marriage.

Or rather I was.

J was trying to wash up while I cooked so that we could both sit down and drink beer/gin. I like to do this sometimes – try and have serious chats about marriage at inopportune times – because I’m an idiot, and I worry that we’re not thinking hard enough about it. When of course, that’s not true at all.

This particular conversation centred around the fact that marriage isn’t passive: J had said something about getting married just confirming our relationship and I disagreed. I said that it was something active, something we were making a statement about and a break from our families in order to create something new*. (Note: J didn’t say it wasn’t any of these things. I KNOW he understands this too. But you know, I am an idiot and felt that the point needed reiterating.)

*I may have been reading a few wedding blogs along these lines.

Me: [Very serious] It’s not passive. We’re not just blindly following a path that leads to marriage. We’re actively creating something new. I’m going to be your family, your immediate family. We’re creating a new unit...

Him: [Robotic voice] Unit 5718 has been created. Former units: IRRELEVANT.

And then I started laughing, and told him that if he could just carry on like that, we’d be fine.

hmm

2010-07-19T06:14:00.001-07:00

Total number of wedding things achieved this weekend:

1. Buy card for trying out invitations.

That's it.

Ta daa!

I need to get better at this.

lovely thing #4

2010-07-16T02:18:00.000-07:00

I realised I haven't done one of these for a while. This is my occasional series of lovely things I find and decide I'd quite like to have at the wedding.

Here is lovely thing number four: sparklers. I bloody love fireworks and sparklers are part of that. I'd really like fireworks at the wedding, but they may be a bit pricey - need to investigate.

Here is a brilliant pic (from Love and Lavender)