Weddings are great, aren't they? I mean, I'm pretty cynical about love in general but I generally love weddings. The news on 14th of June, that wedding numbers could now be bigger, was brilliant for me. I'm not getting married, but I was due to be a wedding guest. Slightly less important in the great scheme of things, for sure, but being able to attend the wedding of a good mate of mine was the best news I'd had in ages. And a couple of weekends ago, the wedding happened. It was fabulous.
Because I keep reliving the day in my mind, and feeling all chuffed and at one with the world, I thought I'd address the topic in blog form. Not specifically the one I attended this time, but weddings in general. Now I'm no longer in the late twenties to early thirties zone, there aren't so many of them in my diary these days. And as much as I took them for granted a couple of decades ago, I miss them now they're rarer. So, in no particular order, here are the top things that are fab about weddings. Apart from the main reason, of course - that someone you know has entered into a legal contract with someone else they met at some point. (Look, I never claimed to be a romantic.)
The Night Before...
Sometimes everyone's in the same hotel. Sometimes the half of the couple you know, arranges a small gathering in a parental house. Sometimes you've just ended up in the pub. But the night before the wedding, where guests who have travelled meet up with old friends, is always the best. A few quiet drinks ends up creeping towards the danger zone of pissed as a fart, but it's the loveliest way to start the proceedings.
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| This was 2016. Post hoc ergo propter hoc, anybody? |
Dressing Up...
You know this already, but I'm much more comfortable in scruffs than I am in proper clothes. I'm still waiting for a wedding invitation to use the phrase 'We're going for a Causal Friday vibe tbh'. But forget all that. Now and then, on a special occasion, it's really nice to make an effort. And of course, as someone at odds with the summer, I'm never going to find myself wearing anything flowery, flowing, or seasonally appropriate. I'm often in black, and I make sure to conceal most of my flesh. But forget about all that, too. Slapping on a face, feeling constrained by a zip, and being out of pyjama bottoms is fun. Consider it a novelty. It's someone's special day after all.
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| Chel-owwww* |
When the opera singer began, during last week's ceremony, I remembered how life-affirming live performance can be. Opera's not high up on my list of leisure pursuits but it was utterly beautiful. I had a string quartet at my own shindig a hundred years ago; other mates of mine had the band from the pub who played ALL the good tunes. Live music is never not fabulous. It only ever enhances proceedings. Throw in the fact no one's seen or heard anything performed live for months, and it can be simply breathtaking.
Strangers on a Table...
You're looking fantastic, you've had just enough champagne to be at your witty, sparkling best, and then you make your way to the seating plan to see what lovely new friends you're about to make. I LOVE a good natter on a wedding table. Everyone's there for the same reason, even if your paths have never crossed. Bonhomie is in abundance. Goodwill is flowing. Everyone's dial is set to peak charming. It's such good fun.**
Nostalgia on the Dance Floor***...
During the table chat with my new besties last week, the question was posed, 'What's the song that will always get on the dance floor?' And I knew the two-part answer immediately. Mr. Brightside by the Killers and A Little Respect by Erasure. But when it came down to it, it was another song that made me want to get up and bop. Wonderwall by Oasis. As I swayed away, ala Liam and Noel, I remembered it was the big hit of the year my peers and I turned eighteen. I spent most of 1995/96 swaying on dance floors in a similar manner. It's always going to be there, isn't it. Wonderwall. On dance floors for the rest of my life. When I'm seventy. Eighty. When coffins are carried in. I wouldn't have thought to cite it as one of my faves, but if it's going to soundtrack my life, I'm not going to argue.
Thank you for indulging me. In a few short paragraphs, I've relived the marvellous memories of last week, as well as the welcome ghosts of weddings past. I do wonder whether the 'current climate' - aka 'all this', and 'the past eighteen months' - has made me more appreciative of any type of social event. The joy of sharing a special day with lovely people should never become commonplace, but this one felt particularly special. Perhaps the lesson is that it shouldn't need a wedding to get together with old mates. We can do that for real now. Tables of six, socially distanced, masks at the ready and all that. But we can do it whilst wearing comfy clothes too. Bring it on!
Have a lovely week, folks.
*Yes, I know it's spelt cello, but you have to read it in Jack Black's voice from School of Rock. You know? When he turned a double base on it's side to make a bass guitar. Remember? Anyone? Oh well.
**Fun fact: After attending a wedding in 2011 and sitting next to a lovely man called Jonathan, I used his name and some aspects of how I perceived his personality to be, to create the character of - wait for it - Jonathan, in Carry the Beautiful. He makes a return in Assembling the Wingpeople too. All that from the randomness of a seating plan.
***A sides-up marquee on private land meant small bursts of spaced-out dancing were allowed.
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