It’s all about testing the boundaries of sanity chez moi this week. I am taking time out from my copies of Crazy Like Us (non-fiction; on globalisation issues and mental health) and Stephen King’s Under The Dome (fiction; bad stuff happens and people go crazy). I’m researching another topic commonly associated with breakdowns in mental health – weddings.
No, this isn’t for the sheer fun of it. Yes, I am actually having one. I have not gone completely insane. I haven’t put the wedding carriage before the plumed white horses with fetching sparkly corsages and just started organising one in the assumption that the groom will turn up on the day.
(Incidentally, is this why all the weddings photos in magazines etc show lone brides standing alone, looking wistful and posing in the light, assumedly in the hope of luring a groom? Is the correct procedure for females looking to meet a life mate to shove on a fluffy white meringue and pose somewhere dramatically, like an albino Bird of Paradise doing a mating dance?)
Someone has asked me to marry them and I would like to, so I said yes. I am not doing a Miss Havisham and planning on stalking through my gothic mansion in a torn wedding dress for all eternity, not least because my apartment in Sydney has an abundance of light and stainless steel decor and Gothicising it would require a good deal more effort than just getting out there and finding another groom. Although possibly less effort than organising a wedding.
I have a bit of a dearth of wedding books on my shelves. I have tried looking for some online but can’t really tell the difference between the various titles. They’ve all gone for that trick of naming themselves something definitive and simple. Which is all very clever and meta-marketing and all that until you realise that you’ve ended up with 9 books called “Wedding”, 7 books called “Weddings” and another 25 or so called “Your Wedding” or “My First Wedding” or something equally non-helpful in describing the information actually in the book in question. Seriously, go count them. I’ll wait.
I appreciate the concept, but frankly it’s a bit like coming across a whole bunch of fiction books called “Story” or a group of politicians all named Lying Narcissist Weasel.
Most of the wedding books I have found seem to veer between the lines of Fluffyknickers The Flower Belle’s Holistic Hippy Wedding Hints or Mrs. Deirdre’s Guide to Wedding for Charming Young Ladies of Taste, Refinement and Chastity, the second of which I am vaguely worried will explode into flames should I put my hands on it.
Ideally I am looking for a title something along the lines of “How to Organise a Nice Day for You and Both Families Without Going Insane, Bankrupt or Both.” Something with helpful reminders like “Your Mum would appreciate an invite” instead of stern obscure prohibitions something along the lines of “Three shall be the bridesmaids thou shalt count, and the number of the bridesmaids shall be three. Four shalt thou not have, neither have thou two…”
Can anyone recommend a tome to read that won’t suggest either hand-woven organic goat beard headpieces for the bridesmaids (“Just add a sprinkle of grass picked on a rain May 1st for the Goddess’s blessings!”) or covering the piano legs with little skirts so it doesn’t over-excite the Gentlemen?