writer's moll

Now I’m as ready as the next person to ooh and aah over a beautiful bride as she glides from the church, but I’m not quite as keen on her during the year leading up to it. The tyrannical stamping of pre-satined feet makes some African dictatorships look positively benign as families and friends are bullied into bowing to the bride-to-be’s all-consuming desire for her ‘perfect day’. Look love, it’s just a wedding, life goes on afterwards and then it’s called a marriage, which you don’t seem to find half as appealing.

Is it just me who thinks that this fantasy wedding, pursued so relentlessly by brides-to-be, is a bit – well – silly? Already every high street has three bridal shops catering for their every whim, some so exclusive that you can’t just waltz in off the street, but must make an appointment before you get to try on that ‘perfect dress’ that will transform you into a fairytale princess.

But now apparently, the bride-to-be has come up with yet another plan to increase the chances of her getting her perfect day. It’s a pre-nuptial agreement for the bridesmaids. So, if you’re likely to be asked to act as one in the near future, not only will the bride-to-be expect you to squeeze into a pink taffeta monstrosity, manage the tantrums of the pageboy, but she also wants you to promise not to get fat, change your hairstyle or get a tan that leaves unsightly strap marks.

A few months back, it was reported that the groom-to-be got so fed up with his fiancée’s escalating demands for her perfect day that he called the wedding off. But was she bovvered? Not a bit of it, she went ahead without him and declared it a complete success.

There's nothing wrong with a bit of fantasy - it gives a little sparkle to some of life’s duller moments. I do it all the time: I win millions of pounds and found, not an ordinary old-fashioned orphanage, but one with an infallible, innovative way of detecting paedophiles and sadists, and at the same time attracting caring, vocational staff and turning out happy, well-adjusted children and hey presto, I solve the problem of suitable homes for deprived children.

But, I know it’s a fantasy - I can’t even organise our various hospital appointments without one or other of us turning up at the wrong time or the wrong hospital.

Or, I fantasise that I’m the heroine of that recent newspaper article describing a stand-off situation between a woman and a tiger – the woman stares at the tiger with a ballpoint pen in her hand; the tiger returns the stare with her husband’s head in his mouth. She obeys the muffled instructions from her husband to stab the tiger in the eye with the pen, does so, which persuades the tiger that though he could likely hold on to this dinner, a one-eyed hunter might not get another quite so easily and so releases the head and skulks off.

Again, I know that the stand-off situation I’ll actually be in will be with a flock of sheep. They’ll look at me, decide that this strange two-legged creature is a pushover and impudently surround me and try to crush me to death; I’ll look at them more than a little perplexed about what to do, until someone comes along and says boo.

So I reckon it’s about time brides-to-be to stopped confusing show biz fantasy with real romance – by the time you’ve finished arguing about canapés or sausage rolls, four or six bridesmaids, a Mauritius or Madrid honeymoon, pink or green balloons you’ll have strangled any last bit of romance out of the occasion and become boring tyrants into the bargain.

That perfect day just ain’t gonna happen, or at least not in the way you’re planning on. One or more of the guests will get horribly drunk and let on just what they think of your sister, or criticise your catering, your venue, or your guest list. So it would be nice if you could stop for a moment and realise that it’s not just about you – most of the others turning up for your wedding aren’t all that interested in the story of how you came to choose a sweetheart neckline over the halter. Give them a bit of fun and they’ll happily ooh and aah over your dress.