English: Bridesmaids

English: Bridesmaids (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So this weekend I attended the wedding of an ex work colleague of mine. Lets call her Jenny*. She looked absolutely amazing and I got to spend a surprising amount of quality time with her (see below). And I must admit that despite a few hiccups (also confessed to below), I had a surprisingly good time. Although for the amount of money I spent, I could’ve gone on a package holiday, gotten sunburnt, and enjoyed a lovely slimming bout of food poisoning. But enough of my financial grumbles, here is what I have learnt about weddings.

DOUBLE CHECK THE NAME OF THE CHURCH – It is possible to have two St Matthew’s churches within a close vicinity.  And if you are late to the ceremony, everyone will stare at you. Everyone. Especially when you dramatically push the doors open during the ‘does anyone object’ part.

FIND OUT WHAT COLOUR THE BRIDESMAIDS ARE WEARING – And don’t wear it. Apparently official photographers get easily baffled by colour schemes. If the bridesmaids are wearing purple, and you are wearing purple, hide. Or you will repeatedly have to extricate yourself from unnecessary, and socially uncomfortable, group photographs.

IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU DON’T LIKE GOATS CHEESE – The starter will invariably include Goats cheese. Faking a dairy intolerance only results in the starter being removed, and replaced by a bread roll. And then they confiscate your butter.

IF YOU SEE THE BRIDE CRYING IN THE LADIES AFTER THE CEREMONY – Don’t ask her if is she is ok. This is a redundant question. It only prompts wailing.  Instead immediately run and find a closer friend or family member. Preferably one with a PHD in Counselling.

DON’T OFFER TO DANCE WITH THE KIDS – If you do so, every kid at the reception will be taking it in turns to dance on your feet. Some of those kids are heavy. And the fun only stops when Jenny’s Great Uncle Nigel offers to waltz you round the room.


PRE BOOK A TAXI TO YOUR HOTEL – Otherwise you end up with a forty minute wait. Whilst trying to politely explain that no you don’t want to sleep on Great Uncle Nigel’s sofa bed. Very kind offer but you know….

Anyway on the plus side, my taxi for one eventually arrived. And most importantly, Jenny stopped crying and decided that she wasn’t “ruining her life” by getting married after all. Which was a bonus for her oblivious, and very sweet, new husband.

I suppose when you are single, you assume that everyone in a relationship is blissfully happy. Maybe the grass isn’t always greener…..

And at least I got chatted up. Now I just need to find someone a few decades younger than Nigel. Who preferably still has their own teeth. And original hips.