Goodbye my friend

Ah Blogger - we've shared some good times these past few months but as much I love you and your easy-to-use service, you have been making life complicated for my readers. So, it is with a fond smile that I cite the heartfelt lyrics of the Spice Girls and say: "Goodbye my friend."

For any readers keen to keep up with the fun and games of planning a wedding, you'll find me at my new home - http://theguiltedgedbride.wordpress.com/

Come and join me!

Top Of The (tying the) Knots

In the couple of months that I have been undergoing training in the ways of The Bride (less learning Kill Bill-style combat skills, more reading a couple of magazines and looking at websites), I have noticed a number of things that pop up at almost every wedding.

So, I have decided to share with all you pop-pickers the top ten things YOU MUST HAVE at your wedding this year.

*As a quick disclaimer, some of these ideas I love, others I find completely mental. However, just like Mark Goodier announcing the results of the Blur Vs Oasis Battle of the Bands in 1995, I'm not here to judge.

10 - Hat hooks  

I have never seen hat hooks at any wedding I have been to, but myself and Diary Of A Bride To Be have noticed them popping up with alarming frequency in blogs of late. What are they? Why, they're hooks you fix around your venue for your guests to hang their hats on of course, and no 2012 wedding should be without them.

9 - Ice-cream/fish and chip/kebab vans  

Fed up of the usual cold sandwiches and slices of wedding cake you're served up at evening receptions? No? Well, according to the 2012 wedding chart you really should be. Couples today are saying bye-bye to buffets and instead treating their guests to these glorified takeaway services.

8 - Sweetie tables

2012 brides are keeping their guests sweet with sweetie tables. I thought this was an amazing idea, giving guests the freedom to choose what they want to snack on, rather than you picking their sweets for them and presenting them as a favour. However, I soon realised the sweetie table is not there instead of favours, but as well as. The 'not instead of, but as well as' motto very much appears to be a theme of weddings this year.

7 - Homemade favours

On the subject of favours, this year's brides-to-be are working their fingers to the bone knocking up gifts from scratch. It seems sugared almonds or chocolate truffles are no longer satisfactory and no guest will be content unless they are presented with a favour that has been lovingly crafted by the couple's own hands. Expect to be handed heart-shaped pin cushions, tea cup candles and jars of chutney by a bride with bleeding, wax-covered fingers who smells of onions.

6 - Garden games

A bride in 2012 knows a disco is simply not enough to entertain her guests, which is why you can also expect to be able to play bowls, croquet and cricket at any marquee weddings you go to this year. After all, it is the year of the Olympics.

5 - Photo booths

Guests are difficult creatures and need a lot to keep them occupied. Indeed, without couples laying on a host of entertainment, guests might simply become confused and disorientated, wander out of the marquee and on to a country lane, where they could be tragically hit by a tractor. Avoid calamity and provide them with a photo booth, where they can put on fancy dress costumes and hold up funny slogans while a photographer merrily snaps away.

4 - Moustaches

It doesn't matter if they're real or fake, you must make sure they're invited to your wedding if you don't want to be the odd one out this year.

3 - Lace

Ahhh Kate Middleton, she has done so much for the British wedding industry. If you want to make like a duchess this year, you'll be coveting lace over satin. And it doesn't stop at your dress either. To really get to grips with this trend, you should deck out your reception venue in lacy décor as well. Get working on your bunting now.

2 - Nick-nacks

Also known as vintage finds/personal touches/piles of junk. Uniformity is out of the window this year and when it comes to decorating your wedding venue, miss-matched is very much the word du jour. Pile up leather-bound books as your table centrepieces, place random bird cages filled with vintage postcards around the room and bus in 200 cake stands and you'll have succeeded in creating the 2012 wedding look.

1 - Sunglasses

Topping the chart this year is sunglasses. Both bride and groom must take care to protect their delicate eyes from the sun's harmful rays on their wedding day, no matter what time of year they're tying the knot. If you're wondering what style will work well with your lace gown, make like Tom Cruise and invest in some Ray-Ban Aviators.

Are there any movers and shakers you think should be added to my 2012 wedding trends countdown?

Attack of the Green-eyed Monster

Since I started this blog, I have waxed lyrical on everything from bizarre celebrity weddings to the plethora of traditions surrounding nuptials, along with producing many, MANY posts about my table centrepiece dilemmas. However, I have outlined very few of my own experiences. This is mainly because, as myself and D's wedding is some time away, I don't have much to talk about.

Apart from, that is, the trouble I've been having with an emotion I started to experience soon after I got engaged, which has caught me largely off guard: jealousy.

A jealous bride-to-be? Surely not! Yet it should come as little surprise that the thing making me feel like the Green-eyed Monster is the very same thing that has pushed me towards the edge of a stress-induced breakdown in the past few months. That is, other people's weddings. Admittedly, I've largely brought it on myself, as before I was ever engaged I vowed I would never read a wedding blog or magazine. This was very sage advice I should have stuck to.

As it is, I can't help but indulge in the odd glance and I often head immediately to the real-life wedding section. It is this that's my downfall. As I flick through picture after picture of meadows filled with tables covered in gingham, laughing people cavorting through a dressing up box and filling up on ice-cream from the van that has been hired especially for the day, I feel the envy start to bubble up. Looking at snaps of the couples posing on Portobello Road, larking about between the stalls (just to really rub it in that not only have they had a cool, London wedding, but they have also been shopping for vintage loveliness) I can feel myself tense with rage. Then there are those brides who get choppered into the ceremony, present each of the guests with a Faberge egg as a favour and spend their photoshoot frolicking in a cornfield wearing a pair of Louboutins - which would fill even a saint with unparalleled jealousy.

But just what is it that's making me envious? The Louboutins obviously, although I lack sympathy with anyone who would spend that much money on shoes only to traipse around a muddy field in them (and white satin is hardly the most hip of materials when it comes to ever wearing the heels again). But what else is causing the Green-eyed Monster to surface?

After all, it's not like they are all my dream wedding. Every one I read about is completely different from the last, ranging from shabby to city chic. And while I may wish I had some of the elements at my own wedding that I see in these pictures (an ice-cream van would be ace - just perhaps not in Manchester in February) - others are absolutely the last thing I would covet (any type of enforced fun, folk songs around the campfire, Cinderella-style carriages.)

Undoubtedly, reading all of these stories has made me stressed, reminding me of how much there is left to do and providing me with inspiration, thereby creating even more work for myself. But that's not what's prompting the envy.

Anyway, I've finally worked out what it is. There's one thing every single photo and account shares - shiny, happy joy. Every bride I look at or read about looks happy, gushing about it being the best day of her life. It doesn't matter whether they partied in a castle or on a barge, they're all happy because, after all that planning, they've finally had their big day.

So, it's the smiles I'm jealous of. I have 11 months to go until I experience that level of joy - and that leaves a lot of time to stress about whether or not to hire an ice-cream van for the reception.

Beyond retro

Every bridal magazine I pick up, I am confronted by gushes of: "We chose a vintage theme for our day." In fact, looking back has never been so now - and it seems every wedding is turning its back on the contemporary and taking a trip back in time.

I'm not exaggerating when I say every wedding either. In the past, I have spliced and diced UK brides into two categories: Cookie-cutter and Edgy. And both, it would appear, are obsessed with organising throwback nuptials. The Cookie-cutters are all about creating a "fairytale" (and there is nothing more vintage than a fairytale, given that they all originate from way before the 1753 Hardwicke Act - the law that first introduced the need to even have a formal marriage ceremony). Meanwhile, the Edgy Brides aim for "vintage glamour", whether its 1920's Paris, 1940's Hollywood, or 1960's London that has inspired them.

Well, I have good news. We can end our hunt for antique lace tablecloths, rustic vases and wartime bunting right now, because all weddings are, by their very definition, vintage.

Take a moment to consider the traditions that almost every bride and groom, without even thinking about it, will be abiding by.

Wearing a veil - Having tried a few on, I have been completely won over by veils (I have always looked good in hats.) However, it is believed the reason brides wear one dates back to when most marriages were arranged and there were fears the man might see his wife-to-be before the vows had been exchanged and make a bolt for it.

Being given away - The phrase itself is undeniably archaic and what it means is more dated than a polyester shell suit, yet it is something brides quite happily chat about in the lead-up to the wedding. The clue is in the "giving away" part, as the tradition of the father or brother giving away the bride stems back to when women were seen as a possession ripe for exchange.

To the left, to the left - When the bride walks up to meet her husband-to-be, she will almost certainly stand to his left. But have you ever wondered why? Well, it's actually leftover from a time when the groom would attempt to kidnap his bride, grabbing her with his left arm and using his right to wield a sword. Sometimes, he would ask a Best Man to assist him with the capture - a far more risky duty than remembering a couple of rings.

Something blue - All brides know the Something old, something new rhyme and are swift to incorporate these elements into their outfit for luck. Funnily enough, most prefer to ignore the last line: And a silver sixpence in her shoe. Perhaps a lifetime of bad luck is better than a day of hobbling.

Of course, some vintage traditions are getting dumped, with many brides preferring to leave the "obey" part out of their vows - even Kate Middleton did it. Other customs that seem to have bitten the dust include walking to the church - which was once considered the luckiest way of getting there - with most brides defining vintage transport as a horse and cart or antique car, over their feet.

It was also once considered extremely unlucky to take a husband whose surname began with the same letter as your own, while getting married on a Wednesday was considered the best option:

Monday for health, Tuesday for wealth, Wednesday best of all,
Thursday for losses, Friday for crosses, Saturday for no luck at all.

Try telling that to all the couples forking out extra cash to secure a Saturday!

However, while we may be risking a bit of bad luck by breaking with some of these customs, overall we are, as Kylie Minogue herself would say, Lucky, Lucky, Lucky, as we no longer have to worry about creating that vintage theme - it's built-in.

And if there's any tradition I'd quite like to see brought back, it would be the custom of crumbling the cake over the bride's head. Inviting the guests to do that is much more fun than a chocolate fountain! What about you?

The great wedding cover-up

Cover-up. A term that has so many meanings - all of them intriguing or glamorous. For instance, it could refer to a beautiful beaded shawl, worn by a woman to stop her delicate shoulders getting cold. Or, it could refer to a Roswell Area 51-style mystery, which Mulder and Scully will gradually unravel over the course of 45 minutes. So, what is the case of the great wedding cover-up?

Well, unfortunately it refers to these:

Chair covers.

Now, if you were after an informative read, offering useful advice on what chair covers are available, where to find them and how much they cost, you have come to the wrong place (although you may find this post by my good friend over at Diary Of A Bride To Be useful). If, on the other hand, you would like to learn more about why chair covers are evil, read on.

These items were a pet hate of mine long before I got engaged and are fast becoming the bane of my life. Yet there was a time when weddings were a land free of chair covers. When you could walk into a reception venue and not be greeted by 100 grounded Casper the Friendly Ghosts wearing organza ribbons around their necks. I attended weddings in the 80s and 90s and don't remember once having to balance for dear life on a chair while worrying that the slippery case hanging on it would slide off, taking me with it.

Yet according to the wedding rules for the new millennium, you simply are not allowed to have a wedding that does not feature chair covers in some capacity (or so they would have you believe). It's as though the rhyme should go:

Something old,

Something new,

Something borrowed,

Something blue, and

Something to cover your chairs, lest they get covered in goo

However, the risk of dropping goo on the chairs is not the reason we are all advised to cover them up. In fact, the reason these covers exist appears to be so guests' sensitive eyes are protected from the monstrous sight of the chairs themselves.

Wander around a wedding fayre and you'll see countless stands flogging these strange items, complete with bows available in every colour under the sun. You also have a choice of materials - slippery silk, powdery polyester, crumpled cotton or shiny Lycra - the latter of which will make all your chairs look like something out of a Mr Motivator Bums, Legs and Tums exercise video.

Then there's the task of fitting them. You can get up at the crack of dawn on your wedding day and, together with some unenthusiastic helpers, wrestle the covers on to the chairs yourself (and risk the room looking like the aftermath of a massacre at Dreams) or you can hire someone to do it for you. Either way - and whether you choose to rent or buy them - you're going to pay hundreds of pounds for the privilege of having each of your seats uniformly disguised so they don't look quite so obviously like chairs.

Why must we cover our chairs, though? In my opinion, unless the only chairs available are an absolute eyesore that belong nowhere other than a classroom or bonfire, they probably look better uncovered.

So, what's my problem? If I don't like them, I just shouldn't have them, right? Yes, except that for some reason the whole world EXPECTS couples to have chair covers at their wedding. And slowly, you can start to become brainwashed into thinking they're a vital component of your big day. Particularly if you learn that the chairs in the room you're having your wedding ceremony in are black, cushioned, faux-leather - great for relaxing with a cocktail and listening to some smooth jazz, perhaps not so great on the solemn occasion of a marriage. "Don't worry though," everyone tells me: "You can hire some chair covers."

And so, that is why I am using this blog to directly appeal to wedding venue owners across the land. Buy some decent chairs. Just some plain wooden chairs painted white. They don't have to cost a fortune; they just have to blend into the background and perform the function they were designed for - to be sat on. If every venue seeing a good trade in wedding hire was to replace their plastic school chairs/folding metal seats/faux-leather furniture with a set of bland and inoffensive chairs, we could end the chair cover madness forever.

On behalf of shawl wearers and conspiracy theorists everywhere, I say it is time we reclaim the term cover-up once and for all. Because the only thing that needs covering up in the world of weddings is its shameful obsession with chair covers.

Play that funky music

There's one element of my wedding that I started planning long before I got engaged - the music. Being able to soundtrack an entire day is a particularly thrilling prospect for me - after all, up until now the only event I had planned a set list for was my funeral.

But enough doom and gloom. The big day will also be an exciting opportunity to give people a musical education. From the ethereal soundtrack of the ceremony to the party pieces of the evening, I have high ambitions for my wedding to act as the ultimate mix tape (long live the cassette).

One problem though: guests just want to enjoy themselves, rather than receive a "musical education" from someone pretentious enough to use the words "musical education" (I'll have a word with myself later).

It's not just me getting married, of course, and D's musical favourites will have to get fair representation on the turntables as well. Unfortunately, this has made drawing up the set list a struggle of difficult-second-album proportions. There is, of course, some overlap in our respective choices (we have about 15 duplicate CDs at home), but we also both have incredibly eclectic taste. As evidence of this, you only have to check out one evening's worth of our Spotify listening, which will run seamlessly from Goldfrapp, through Bowie, on to Dubstar, past Hall & Oates, with a detour to N.W.A, on through Deee-Lite and ending with the Les Misérables soundtrack for a theatrical climax to the (usually drunken) evening.

We both like bands people have never heard of - The Research and Robocop Kraus anyone? - and we both also have our own shameful guilty pleasures (Celine Dion and Ultravox - and no, I won't reveal whose is whose). Unfortunately, it's impossible to dance to Celine and Robocop Kraus are unlikely to get the uninitiated up and grooving. On top of that, it's hard to find a DJ who is likely to carry The Bee Gees and Death in Vegas in the same record bag. And if we did get our way, we would probably be the only people dancing anyway, while all the guests sit around the edges of the room, like countless wallflowers at a high school prom.

The fact is most people just want to have a good time, which means entertaining them with the usual list of wedding classics. Come On Eileen, Livin' On A Prayer, Dancing Queen, YMCA, I Think We're Alone Now - you know the drill - ending with a slow dance to Adele. However, while I might not know what table decorations reflect our personalities, I'm certain a soundtrack featuring Westlife doesn't.

Luckily, we are on our way to a solution. We have picked our three songs for the ceremony, are close to booking the DJ and have pencilled in two friends to do a guest DJ spot. With that many cooks in the musical kitchen, the broth should be well and truly mixed, with something for everyone, including a few of the usual crowd-pleasers at the end of the night.

And if any of them play Robbie Williams' Angels, there'll be hell to pay!

Hanging on the telephone

Any regular readers of my blog (and you're most likely a mythical being as rare as Bigfoot) may have come to the conclusion I have become obsessed with flowers, ribbons, feathers and all other frivolous frippery associated with the world of weddings. And you'd be right. Indeed, when I first started this blog, my own fingers typed the words:

We all know the curse of the Bridezilla, but what about the Bridezmoaner? Who knows a bride who hasn't moaned about something? Even a teensy bit? Perhaps it's that the flowers aren't what they asked for, or they can't find the perfect dress (more of that in a later post). Somehow, the moans squeeze in, leaving everyone else wanting to scream "you're getting married! Cheer up, what's wrong with you?" And well they should. 

I know - I feel ashamed. I have become everything I hate and I will punish myself severely later.

So, I thought I should take a breather from banging on about bouquets and bunting and instead focus on some other (clearly less important) issues. Such as what you need to do to actually get married in the first place.

To begin with, you have to decide what type of wedding you want. Given as D is a non-believer and I haven't set foot inside a church for years, we opted for a civil ceremony. In my own experience, and on the world stage, religion seems to have a habit of making things very complicated so I was hoping that by not inviting it to our wedding, arranging everything would be easier.

However, by not choosing a religious ceremony, you are then left with the default option of putting your big day in the hands of the council. I can think of few better examples of incurring God's wrath than this.

First, you have to find out which local authority you fall under (pretty simple - it's the same one you pay your hard-earned cash to every month and hope your bins will be collected on time. But I won't go there - late-collection-of-wheelie-bin moaning is something best left to readers of the Daily Mail and listeners of the Jeremy Vine show).

Then, you have to find out what council jurisdiction your venue is under. In my case, this was way more confusing than it should have been, as the venue has a Cheshire address yet is under Trafford council, despite the Trafford venues I looked at coming under Sale council. And so on and so forth.

Once you have established who to contact, you have to wait until exactly one year before your planned wedding date to call the venue's local authority, book a registrar and then enter a one-month race against time to call your actual council and schedule an appointment to declare your intention to marry (no, a Facebook change of relationship status will not suffice here) before the deadline passes.

All fine and dandy, except it involves ringing one or, in most cases, two councils, who are not known for rushing to the phone. In fact, one of the local authorities I had to deal with would put me through the usual seventh circle of doom that is the never-ending menu of options, only to then say - when you had finally made it to the holy grail of starting to ring a living human being - "All our operators are busy" and then HANG UP, so I had to call back and start the whole process again.

Once the appointment is made, you get to skip off and declare your intention to marry. This is less romantic than it sounds and involves paying a large amount of cash to flash your passport, before undergoing individual interviews. I (as this blog's title should attest to) have a habit of feeling guilty under questioning, even when there is absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, which resulted in me having a total mind block, forgetting where I live and pausing a beat too long when asked if I had an alias.

Anyway, myself and D have now completed the formalities and can legally wed! And while it's been complicated and involved me listening to a lot of tinkley telephone muzak, it is also done and dusted inside of three months. If only picking table centrepieces was as easy.

Feathers, Kidston and jam jars, oh my!

You're going to think I have become obsessed with decor, and the truth is I have. This was always going to happen - I'm a person who even managed to change The Sims from a strategic life simulation video game (thanks Wikipedia!) to a delightful Grand Designs-style hobby, where I take on the role of a God-like Kevin McCloud, building and decorating properties for my pixels to live in. As a result, the look of our wedding has become something of an obsession.

Unfortunately, this brings me back to the tasteful versus personal dilemma. And once again, I would like to place the blame for causing this panic squarely on the growing number of edgy brides chipping away at my confidence in their magazine and blog interviews.

I have seen countless pictures of falling-down barns and ruined chapels decked out in bunting, antique bicycles waiting to be pedalled off into the sunset, tables set up in rose gardens and adorned with vintage lace tablecloths and jam jars filled with freshly-cut wildflowers. All of this is delightful - a Cath Kidston-esque mix of personal and informal (and we'll ignore the fact that quaint by Cath costs more than edgy Scandinavian by Ikea, meaning the price is far from shabby chic).

The problem is, I am tying the knot in inner-city Manchester. In February. There will be no wild flowers to cut, the bike will be stolen, the lace tablecloths will blow away, and the jam jars will just look a little bit sad and will probably be filled with nothing but my tears at realising my total failure at decorating a wedding.

That's the point - there's actually a great deal of effort that goes into shabby chic and it's never as thrown together as it looks. So, do I instead go for something more timeless, like candelabras and roses arranged tastefully by a florist rather than flung on the table by me? The problem here is money, as the cost of professional table centrepieces is so expensive it would be cheaper for me to arrange five lottery tickets for each person in a pile - and the guests would probably appreciate that more too.

Anyway, after spending weeks and several blog posts obsessing over décor, I decided I should just get over myself and make a decision. So, I took decisive action and bought some peacock feathers with the thought of arranging them in vases - simple, naturally beautiful, quirky and vintage. Unfortunately, I have since learnt that peacock feathers bring bad luck. And remembered I don't like touching feathers. And have a fear of peacocks.

I think I may go back to playing Grand Designs on The Sims.

Napkins on Elm Street

I have been AWOL for a week. I had no choice - I had to remove myself from the world of weddings for my own sanity. It was all getting a bit too much. And it all started with something so simple - napkins.

On Valentine's Day (how romantic) we re-visited our venue to pay the deposit. While there, I was asked how many guests we were having, what type of top table we preferred, what shade of carpet we wanted and, finally, what colour napkins we were having and how they would be positioned in the glasses. Napkins. That's what it took to push me from a state of wide-eyed confusion to the precipice of tears in an instant.

The fact is, there's a year to go and I have not, for even one second, thought about what napkins I want. I don't know if they will be red or white, folded in a glass or flat on the table, cotton or paper, or even shaped like a swan. I have been waltzing through life blissfully unaware of the importance of napkins. More fool me.

OK, so perhaps I let the whole napkins thing upset me a little too much. The problem is, I don't know what I want. I don't know if I want tasteful elegance, vintage drama or shabby chic. In terms of themes and colour palettes, I'm at a loss - and the biggest reason for this is potential regret.

I am worried that if I go for something full of personality it will look awful (a centrepiece consisting of porcelain cats doesn't really scream sophistication). But if I go for something more traditional, will I feel like I'm at a stranger's wedding on the day? In fact, I have become everything I hate, in danger of losing sight of what's really important at a wedding, but I just can't help it.

And all the while, that little (increasingly distant) voice of reason in my head is saying: "No-one will even notice. The centrepiece could be a Care Bear holding a candle - and NO-ONE WILL CARE!" That's the point - I've been to a lot of weddings and can remember very few of the table centrepieces, colour schemes or floral displays. I confess, I have no idea if any of them even featured napkins.

So, now you understand why I have taken a wedding sabbatical. If I hadn't, I fear this blog would have ended prematurely as a result of the writer drowning in a sea of napkins and tears.

Frocky Horror Show

For me - and I would imagine many, many others - one of the most exciting things about getting married is choosing The Dress. While I was worried about venues, stressed about guests and nervous about the nuptials, the dress was the one thing I could be excited about. After all, I had been dreaming about it for decades. It seems I was wrong.

Now, to be fair to the industry at large, I perhaps don't have the most traditional taste in wedding dresses. In the mid-90s, when I used to doodle designs in my school workbooks, I was convinced I would get married wearing a 1960s-style shift dress and knee high boots, while a few years later medieval became my guiding influence, with sleeves that hung to the floor and Lord of the Rings a key theme.

Luckily I have since grown up and realised that neither Galadriel nor Lulu should be used as your major influence when it comes to the most important frock you are ever likely to wear. So, while I have a few ideas, I felt I was quite open minded. I had also heard from many friends that you just know when you've found The One, even if it is completely different to what you thought you would pick. So, I entered the dress shops in the keen and inquisitive spirit of a Girl Guide.

Within about two minutes of looking at the rails I knew there was nothing that leapt out at me, but I wanted to try on as many different styles as possible so put my trepidations to one side.

I tried on princess-style gowns, but these made me look like Glinda from The Wizard of Oz - if she'd been shrunk in the washing machine. I tried on a Victorian-style lace gown with sleeves, but my height - combined with my wide-eyed nerves and office-worker pale skin - made me look like the ghost of a Victorian child haunting the residents of a rambling Gothic pile. Then there were the dresses decorated with so many sequins and plastic rhinestones they looked like they belonged at a Dolly Parton concert, and the HUGE frocks that will probably make an appearance on My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding any day now. Most of all, in every gown I tried on, I looked nothing like a bride and more like I was playing dress up.

Now, it doesn't help that I am barely 5 ft tall, while the average wedding gown is made for someone of about 5 ft 10" (equivalent to a woman of 5 ft 6" wearing heels.) As a result, I had to stand on a stool. While humiliating, this fooled me momentarily into thinking every dress looked amazing and added inches to me, until I stepped off the stool only for a layer of satin to rise up and make me look like a melting ice-cream. My height also had the unnerving effect of making me look like a child bride, which is probably something best avoided.

I know, I appear to be moaning - which was my major bugbear about brides when I first started this blog. This is the most beautiful, expensive and special dress I will ever wear and there are far worse things I could be doing with my time than trying on hundreds of frocks. I feel guilty complaining, but had to write about my experience if only to dispel the myth that every wedding gown you try on will transform you into Cinderella. In my case, I looked more like a startled Sarah Brightman in Phantom of the Opera.

I still have not found The One and I'm starting to panic. But I know it will happen - however many sequins, rhinestones and layers I have to wade through on the way. After all, if I've found the man I want to marry, how hard can it be to find the dress I want to get married in?

Stressed? Don't go to a wedding fayre

I recently attended my first wedding fayre - an occasion I was sure would teach me many valuable things about planning a wedding. It did - don't go to wedding fayres.

OK, there are a lot of draws to wedding fayres, the main one - apart from the free sweets - being that you are able to search and compare all of the local wedding service providers in your area. Of course, you could do that from the comfort of your sofa using Google, but if I had done that this blog would be much shorter and I wouldn't have got A) as many sweets, or B) so panicked I thought I'd start crying among the chair cover stalls.

I say this because, from my one wedding fayre experience, some of the industry peeps out there are at best unhelpful and at worse quite frightening. The problem is, they believe they are experts - which, given that they will have been involved in the planning of dozens, if not hundreds, of weddings, while you are only struggling through one, is probably true. The problem with them being an expert and you an amateur is that, despite you wielding the cash, they hold all the power and will undoubtedly say things that make you feel (if possible) even more stressed.

One woman point blank told me that D "has to wear tails to get married". Does he really though? I know of no law dictating what a man wears to tie the knot in. As long as he doesn't dress up in a fluffy frog outfit I'll be quite happy. Another exhibitor insisted to my friend (also getting married) that although she had booked a venue, organised the entertainment and sent out her invites, her wedding would not be complete until she had also booked a chocolate fountain/magician/palm reader/animal tamer to entertain the guests.

In fact, it was these vendors of 'fun' services who were perhaps the most irritating. One we spoke to explained they would set up a photo booth at your wedding venue, with a fancy dress box, fake beards and lots of 'hilarious' quote bubbles guests could hold up as the alternative photographer snapped away. To sum up, the exhibitor said: "By having this at your wedding, your guests will be able to have some fun."

Now, while I'll agree that the average wedding is hardly up there with Glastonbury festival in the fun stakes, guests are usually, at a bare minimum, provided with a three-course meal, plenty of free booze, great music, some cake and the obligatory favour. Yet today, even that is not enough, because - according to this exhibitor - no fun will be had unless there is a fake photo booth/falconry display/Disney parade going on as well.

So, as you can see, the whole experience only added more points to my list of things to organise, causing me to leave far more panicked than when I arrived. As a result, I hope you heed this warning: if you are a bride of a nervous disposition, enter wedding fayres with caution. My advice? Put on your headphones, zoom around the stalls picking up business cards/sweets as you go and do not stop for anyone! Then return home and peruse your business cards on the sofa while enjoying your sweets. Simple!

Do soap operas lie?

OK, the above question is pretty easy to answer - of course they lie. The main aim is to be unbelievable. Case 1: Three women (three!) fighting for the affections of John Stape in Coronation Street. Case 2: Sam Michell having sported at least two different heads - an abnormality none of the residents of Albert Square have ever commented on. Case 3: Hollyoaks.

The whole point of soaps is that they stretch the truth in the aim of making real life events more interesting. However, there is one area where they all universally stretch the truth beyond all limits - weddings.

No, I don't mean in the unlikely pairings, frequent elopements or occasional bigamy. I mean in the time it takes every soap bride to plan a wedding. In short, what is their secret and why won't they share it?

Since getting engaged, the most common phrase I have heard is "not long to go now", despite the wedding being a year away. In fact, read a wedding magazine and you will put it down believing there is no way you can plan a wedding without giving up your job and having four years of free time to play with. Yet, in the world of soaps, brides are able to plan and execute a wedding inside of six months or less.

It helps that the go-to reception venue is always the Rovers Return, Vic or Woolpack, which certainly cuts out all the time most couples spend scouting out stately homes, country churches or city hotels. And beware any soap bride who breaks with tradition and heads to a different venue to their local following their nuptials, as their marriage is guaranteed not to make it past the end credits if they do.

I dip in and out of Corrie and in the recent Becky-Steve-Tracy storyline I was less interested in whether Tracy's evil deeds would be uncovered and Becky vindicated than I was in how on earth Ms Barlow (who has also sported at least two heads during her life) managed to pull together a wedding in what must have been about four months.

She managed to book a date at Arley Hall chapel - a home so grand it would make the cast of Downton Abbey weep with envy. She had arranged for a tower of beautifully decorated cup cakes to be piled up for the guests to dig into. The venue was decked out in stunning flowers. And, most tellingly of all, she had a wedding dress that fit perfectly - the top half of which, according to Corrie's ITV makers, was bespoke. In every wedding dress shop I have been into, I have been informed at least six months is necessary to order a dress, alter it to fit you and allow for any additional alterations.

Yet not for the Corrie women months of shopping and then waiting for their dress to come. Instead, they can wander into one bridal boutique and come out swinging a bag on their arm. Soap brides also have few problems booking the venue of their dreams with just four months' notice. And at no point do they sit down with their partner to talk money.

So, why do soap writers cut out the wedding planning? In real life, this is a stage promising so much drama that bridesmaids are driven to drink and brides end up on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

Unfortunately, I can only assume that it's because they know that if they made the soap brides go through 12 months of worrying about whether to have roses or tulips, or sweating over a table plan, as well as juggling their affair, bankruptcy and bigamy, they would never make it down the aisle at all.

How bizarre?

The other day my dad described my wedding as "bizarre". There is still a year to go and so far the only thing we've done is book a venue, but already mine and D's wedding has gained a reputation. My dad did try to back pedal, saying he "liked bizarre", but the damage was already done.

To be honest, I think he will be in for a sad disappointment once my nuptials come around. In fact, if he thinks what I have planned is bizarre he should watch My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding or flick through Heat every once in a while. Because couples today have truly out-there weddings.

In my opinion, bizarre is performing a dance on stage for your spouse, bursting through a trapdoor in the stage belting out I Know Him So Well from Chess, dressing up in Civil War gear with the bride as a Royalist and the groom a Roundhead, or getting the dog to act as best man. And if you really want to see a wedding at the sharp end of the weird stick, may I direct you to the nuptials of Liza Minnelli and David Gest - an event so bizarre it will never be topped. Until that big day, the thought of Michael Jackson, Liz Taylor and Martine McCutcheon (Yes! Martine McCutcheon!) standing in a room together was something even the surrealist of minds couldn't have thought up. This was a wedding photo opportunity that will never be topped.

However, while I may mock, I also think better to be bizarre than bland. And better to do something with Minnelli-levels of crazy than religiously follow the Hello Magazine dream-wedding-blueprint. At least if you know you're an expert in your wedding, no-one else can tell you what they think you should be doing.

In fact, if you have a particularly far-out idea in mind, I'd say it's best to run with it. On this journey, everyone you meet wants to hand you a pearl of wisdom. So far, I have been told by various exhibitors at wedding fayres that the groom must wear tails to get married in, vinyl covers are not a suitable table centrepiece, I have to have sequins on my dress and I should have the photographer there to take pictures of me the morning I get married, whether or not the house is a tip, my hair looks like something from Fraggle Rock and I am openly swigging from a bottle of Baileys.

Indeed, everyone seems to have an opinion on what we should do with little regard for what we may want to do. So, maybe it's time we took a hint from Liza, embraced the crazy and forgot about other people's opinions. How bizarre? Maybe not!

The big question

So far all I appear to have done is worry, moan, stress and moan some more. Which brings us to the big question - why bother?

Not why bother getting married, because that's a totally different question and one probably best answering before you're knee high in chair cover bows. No, why bother having a big wedding? And by big I mean anything over you and two witnesses.

It would be so easy to head to the local registry office or town hall - or even to hop on a plane to Las Vegas and tie the knot in front of Elvis. That way, you would be able to start your married life together free of the hives brought on by desperately searching for favours people won't just leave on the table. And quickie weddings are cool - John and Yoko did it AND wrote a song about it afterwards. (OK, admittedly some of the cool associated with elopement was undone after Kerry Katona exchanged vows with Mark Croft in Gretna Green - but the less said about that the better.)

So, what is the reason we opt to have a wedding, rather than simply get married? Even Kate Moss, usually the barometer of cool for people who feel the need to have a barometer of cool, had a traditional wedding (admittedly followed by a three-day knees-up).

Well, actually there's two reasons. The first is to be able to celebrate your love in front of all your friends and family, and to repay them for all they have done for you over the years with a kick-ass party. The other is the reason that we dare not say out loud. It is that deep down (OK - deep, deep down) we would quite like a day about us. Just a few hours when people are happy for us and celebrating with us.

Because, let's be honest, after the age of 22 it becomes a struggle to get a group of more than ten together (if you're lucky) to celebrate your birthday. And the older they get, the less some people feel like celebrating their birthday, as opposed to hiding under a blanket, eating a Battenberg with a spoon and weeping. Yes, there are other occasions to celebrate - you can have a house warming when you buy your first home (but you'll spend the whole time nearly hysterical with fear the floor will be scratched, walls stained and sofa set on fire). Or, you might be keen to raise a glass after bagging a new job or getting a promotion (but anything more than a few drinks at the pub on this occasion and you risk looking like Elton John in your need to celebrate all things you).

And really, is there anything wrong with wanting that day to just be about you two? I would imagine that by the time all the hard work is done and it actually gets here, you'll deserve it. It's nothing to be ashamed of - particularly when once you reach your mid-20s you'll be attending a wedding practically every weekend. Enjoy your turn because it will only happen once. And if you really want to milk your time in the spotlight, consider writing a song about it afterwards.

Share, don't compare

This post is something of a continuation of the last. While then I spoke about how magazines and blogs can make you feel panicked by telling you all of the things you should be doing, they can also invoke the green eyed monster.

I, like a lot of others, am keen to avoid the cookie-cutter wedding (huge dress, tiara, fancy car, shouty master of ceremonies - there's nothing wrong with this type of wedding, but I find it a bit daunting) and opt for something less traditional that stands out and also reflects mine and D's personalities. As we get older, we will be called upon to attend more and more weddings each year and no-one wants theirs to blend into a memory fog.

One problem though - I am far from the Edgy Bride. In fact, a quick peek at blogs and posts by Edgy Brides on the web just made me feel even more confused and panicked.

The main reason for this was that all their weddings were so cool. Because they were cool. Indeed, every one of the Edgy Bride weddings I looked at were achingly cool.

Yet there was also an air of the unbelievable about them. Some claimed they had wanted a relaxed wedding: "More an informal gathering really..." Yet I refuse to believe these brides were relaxed as they iced their own cake the day before they got married, painted banners and blackboards to decorate the venue with, made their own bouquets from lace birds and butterflies or attempted to convince their grandmother that spending the reception sitting on a cushion outside a yurt was fun.

The more black and white pictures I scrolled through - showing brides in vintage satin with their hair a little too carefully unkempt, grooms in sunglasses and natty tweed suits posing at a bus stop, bridesmaids wearing un-matching yet colour co-ordinated prom dresses, laughing as they posed in wellies outside a barn, where "close friend" Jonas was entertaining the guests with a few Bright Eyes songs on his acoustic guitar - the more I realised I am not cool. And maybe that's a good thing.

The bottom line is that your wedding day will reflect who you are, whether or not you personally choose the evening's set list, name each table after your favourite films or even invest in huge posters showing you and your spouse laughingly walking your dog by a canal. The venue will be packed with your friends and family watching you exchange vows. When the big day comes it could not be more personal, unique or cool.

If you want to get your craft kit out, start baking or begin scouting for unusual places to have your wedding photographs taken, that's OK too. But if you're just not that kind of bride - and I'm not - sit back and bask in the knowledge that when your wedding day comes, you will be glad having to arrange cup cakes like a pile of Ferrero Rocher is the last thing on your mind.

So, the lesson is not to compare but to share. Your wedding will be individual, but it's OK to take inspiration from others. At the end of the big day, we will all be taking home an album of photos showing smiling guests, a smart groom and a woman in white.

Stress less

When I got engaged I vowed I would just enjoy it for a while. This I did. For about one week. And that was only because it was Christmas, a time when everything, including the wedding industry, takes a backseat. However, before too long people wanted to know when the big day was. And no matter how vague the date in your mind is, with a date there must come a venue. And with a venue there must come a theme for the day. And so it spirals. At least I enjoyed my one week of being engaged.

As mentioned before, I am quite lazy and I prefer to turn to third parties for guidance/a-person-to-do-it-for-me whenever something big looms on the horizon. So that's just what I did. Big mistake!

There is a LOT of wedding advice out there. For instance, all I wanted to get my hands on was a simple wedding planner - a guide that would tell me what basics I should be getting organised each month during the year before I got married. After dismissing the many planners that suggested a wedding simply could not be arranged in merely 12 months, I was left with a variety of increasingly panic-inducing guides. One told me that I MUST make sure I had booked a session with a feng shui expert at least six months before my wedding day. Another reminded me that I should schedule in time for remodelling a room in my home during the final month of the countdown (weird, but I'm not making it up). In fact, after innocently believing I would not be required to do much during the first three to six months, every guide told me I was wrong, wrong, WRONG. Thank goodness we got engaged at Christmas and I had several bottles of sherry to help calm my battered nerves.

Then there were the blogs and magazines, both of which opened up a completely different can of worms. Not only did I have to plan the biggest event of my life but it also had to be the Best. Day. Ever!!! Yet every wedding was different. Where was the cut-out-and-keep blue print I was after? The one thing I ascertained was that brides can be split into two basic types.

Cookie-cutter

These are the brides who get engaged, buy every wedding magazine on the shelf one day later and will strive for the fairytale wedding. I have nothing but respect for these women as the very idea of setting such a goal sends me racing for the sherry bottle again.

Edgy

Increasingly, there are brides out there who dismiss the fairytale wedding in favour of something different and more "them". At first, this seems like a sensible route, but delve deeper. Take a look at the Polaroid photos, the handcrafted table decorations, the homemade tower of cupcakes. Down this route lies even more stress than the ultimate cookie-cutter wedding.

So, I have decided that from this point forward I will limit the "advice" I seek. I will flick through wedding magazines faster than Superman spins around in his phone booth. I will draw up my own wedding plan.

And if I do want advice, I will ask people to share their tips with me. Friends who have got married and lived to tell the tale, or those who are getting married and are happy to hear me moan if they can do the same. Perhaps the best person to turn to is your mum. Trust me, when you're up to your eyes in dried flowers, weeping as you attempt to tie bouquets in yarn, to place in one of the ten antique glasses you have been collecting, to place in the middle of the circle of tea light holders you have decorated with the names of your guests to use as place settings, you will wonder why you didn't just ask her to host a buffet at her house.

The Guilt-edged Bride

I'm a writer and yet I have never written a blog. I never felt I had anything of interest to write about. Now I'm getting married, and although this is a rather run-of-the-mill occurrence, weddings also support a multi-million pound industry, with countless blogs, magazines and websites all eager to shout about them. So, I guess I now have something to write about.

However, the reason I felt compelled to write a blog is not to bask in lacy, bridal glory. In fact, I wanted to write about getting married in terms of the three leading feelings I have about this, the greatest day of my life: panic, laziness and guilt. So, before I delve into the flowers and confetti, I'll address these individually.

Panic

First off, I do not feel panicked about actually being married - far from it. I have been with my partner (who, in true blog style, shall be referred to as D from this point forward) for six years. I always counted myself lucky that I never had to hear comments like "has he still not made an honest woman of you" or "no ring on that finger, I see", served up with a pitying face. However, the last year such comments had started to creep in. The fact is, we have known for a long time we were going to get married, it was just a case of getting round to it. I'm glad he did though, as those pitying faces were becoming all too common.

No, the reason I feel panicked is I have to organise a wedding. Up to this point, I have never done anything more than throw a half-hearted BBQ for half a dozen people and yet now I have to plan and host an event for more than 100, all of whom will be travelling from all over the country and most of whom do not know each other. In fact, every year millions of women are suddenly expected to become fully-qualified event planners without even the knowledge they get to waltz around in an Access All Areas sticker on the big day. This is the real reason for the panic and stress.

Laziness

OK, maybe I'm not lazy. However, I do tend to avoid over-exerting myself. Balancing too many plates only ends up with something breaking, so I prefer to hold one plate firmly in two hands. But gone are the days when 50 members of your family would fill the pews in church, before heading back to your parents' home to tuck into a buffet. So now I have to start plate-balancing. I am going to have to make an effort and actually plan and execute something - the thought of which makes me long for the comfort of lazing on the sofa.

Guilt

What reason have I to feel guilty? Before you ask, I did not steal D from the arms of another. In fact, the very reason I have to feel guilty is evidenced in this blog - I am moaning. About having a wedding.

I have a favourite line in Friends. It's from the one where Ross has to decide whether to stay with Julie or leave her to be with Rachel. After bemoaning the fact that two women are in love with him, Chandler responds, saying: "My wallet's too small for my fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight!"

This sums my feelings up perfectly. We all know the curse of the Bridezilla, but what about the Bridezmoaner? Who knows a bride who hasn't moaned about something? Even a teensy bit? Perhaps it's that the flowers aren't what they asked for, or they can't find the perfect dress (more of that in a later post). Somehow, the moans squeeze in, leaving everyone else wanting to scream "you're getting married! Cheer up, what's wrong with you?" And well they should. You are about to enjoy the day you have dreamed of since you were old enough to daydream - what is wrong with you?

The thing is, it's so easy for those moans to creep in, because planning a wedding is panic-inducing and does make you want to run and hide under the duvet. Yet moaning about it induces feelings of guilt. Although, better to be guilty of moaning than to be a smug bride.

So, therein lies my (hopefully unique) angle. This blog is for any bride who has feelings of panic, laziness and guilt mixed in with the happiness and excitement. Hopefully we can get through this together.