Brides unveiled: The truth about the modern wedding

This morning Wayne Rooney and his new wife Coleen McLoughlin will be reflecting on their lavish wedding yesterday in the Italian Riviera resort of Portofino. The couple are thought to have blown £5m on a ceremony and reception for 64 guests, who were whisked out there in private jets, lavished with champagne breakfasts every morning and "entertained" by Westlife. Yes, a white wedding is a fairy-tale romance all right... scripted by the Brothers Grimm. You and your groom watch all your friends get drunk on cheap champagne, then make contrived, innuendo-laden speeches about wedding tackle while your relatives dance badly to cover versions of The Clash and wolf down wedding-reception food, which could be either prawn cocktails or tent tarpaulin, as ex-boyfriends throw up on your shoes... Is this really love's greatest possible manifestation?

The average cost of a wedding in Britain is now just over £20,000. Psychologists reckon wedding planning to be as stressful as moving house and bereavement; a traditional marriage ceremony seems like a very expensive way to have a nervous breakdown in front of everyone you know. There are so many things that can go wrong. Starting with families. There is no such thing as a functional family. But formal weddings sure put the "fun" into dysfunction. Even the Golden Couple have apparently been at loggerheads over the guest list. Wayne's cousin Natalie has been banned because she flashed her breasts at Coleen's 21st birthday party last year and threatened to perform a full strip at their wedding. Others who've been sent to social Siberia include Natalie's dad, John, and brother Stephen, who is a gay transvestite.

Just because you adore each other certainly does not mean your families are going to get on. The last white wedding I attended, familial hostilities were akin to those of two Balkan republics. The groom's family was from Essex. His mother had the sort of face you usually associate with crime- and accident-reconstruction programmes, his father sported the kind of haircut which needs a number under it and his brothers looked underdressed without their ski masks. The bride's family were from Gloucestershire, with cut-glass elocution and facial expressions by taxidermy. The chinless wonder perched on the church pew to my left ' told me she was an heiress. The woman on my right gave a hiss loud enough to be heard in the outer Hebrides. "Heiress? More like airhead...". By the time we made it to the reception, the bride and groom's families were making the Montagues and Capulets look compatible.

Related articles

• The rock'n'roll bride
• The virgin bride
• The Hello! bride
• The green bride
• The arranged bride
• The lesbian bride
• The vintage bride
• The ice bride
• The credit-crunch bride
• The serial bride
• Search the news archive for more stories

These factions were only momentarily brought together by their mutual antipathy to the friends of the newlyweds. There was a generation gap of Grand Canyon proportions. This became embarrassingly clear during the ritual humiliatingly indiscreet speech by the groom's soon-to-be-ex-best friend – did he truly think we wanted to know the couple's nicknames for their genitals? And so it went on.

The virginal white dress, the father "giving away" the bride and other such antiquated traditions remind us that marriage is basically an institution invented to protect the property rights of patriarchs over land and cattle. (And you thought that human sacrifice was a horror of the past.) Still, an ideal marriage represents solidarity within and equality without. The wedding ceremony, at its best, can be a public declaration of a private passion, the wedding kiss signifying the union of souls, exchanging the breath of life.

But you wouldn't be blamed for remaining in unwedded bliss; just think of the money you could save. Wayne and Coleen have struck a £2.5m deal with a glossy magazine for the world rights to their wedding. But for those of us who aren't football royalty, it's a cash haemorrhage. The wedding industry, from the florists and chauffeurs to the caterers and horse-drawn carriages, is adept at convincing nervous couples that their big day requires them to spend big too. The average cost of a wedding has been rising by eight per cent a year since 2003. (With the credit crunch hitting hip pockets, couples may soon find it more cost-effective to marry in the real estate office: "To have and to sharehold. To honour and repay...")

A cheaper option is to knot your nuptials in a registry office, with joss sticks and Mozart, in a ceremony for which you've written your own vows about not hindering each other on your personal journeys. The most riotous, joyful events I've ever attended have been gay commitment ceremonies with male bridesmaids and best women, and an understanding that it's not considered a serious breach of etiquette to snog, and possibly have sex with, the celebrant. ("His and His" or "Her and Her" hand towels make a perfect pressie.) '

Alternatively, you could say "I do" while parachuting a few thousand feet above or scuba-diving a couple of leagues below. Or just take the money your parents intended to spend on the reception and elope – you can always throw a more casual party at a later date. At least you then avoid starting your honeymoon with recriminations about cheapskate relatives and tasteless speeches; a case of the mourning after the knot before.

When I married, 18 years ago, it was in a registry office, because our local vicar refused to perform the ceremony in his church, as I was a divorcee. We finally found a chaplain happy to unite us if we could secure a licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury, only for his office to refuse permission. The irony that the Church of England was founded by Henry VIII to cater to his marital indelicacies seemed completely lost on that sanctimonious, pinstripe-underpanted brigade. Now that marriage rates in the West are lower than Paris Hilton's bikini line, perhaps the Church of England will show a more lenient attitude to its diminishing flock. (Surely one previous marriage with no children only made me a beige, not a black, sheep.)

While couples seem happy to chuck more and more cash at their weddings, fewer and fewer seem to be tying the knot. The reasons why are unclear. Brides may be desperate for the perfect wedding day, but it's their grooms whom marriage treats better. Married men live longer than single men, suffer less heart disease and mental illness; whereas single women live longer than married women and suffer less heart disease and mental problems. I suspect that it's women who are developing PMT (pre-monogamy tension). Perhaps women are wising up to the fact that being a wife erodes your mental health, reduces your leisure, dries up your libido and increases the odds that you will be assaulted or murdered in your own home. In one recent marriage survey by the Guardian, 42 per cent of women said they often thought about running away with someone else, half wished they'd never married and a third found sex boring. Modern women are seeing wedlock as little more than a padlock.

If the institution of marriage is not to be jilted at the altar, we need to love more realistically. Let's start by revamping wedding vows. It's not sickness, infidelity or lack of money that breaks up marriages; it's cellulite, snoring, ' not helping around the house or interrupting each other's anecdotes. Vicars should say, "In irritating, snorty laughing noises and in thickening thighs, I now pronounce you man and wife... till extreme irritation do you part."

Marriage is worth saving because it does have its good points. At its very least, it is an immunisation against loneliness. And what a relief not to have to go naked in front of a stranger ever again. Not to have to bikini-wax every five seconds. Or lie on your side to make your breasts look bigger. The very thought of having a husband is relaxing. Like looking at tropical fish. A spouse is the person who knows all about you – and still likes you anyway.

As Britain has the highest divorce rate in Europe (more than half of all marriages end in divorce), it's tempting to lower our expectations and do away with vows altogether. But if the thought of a wedding is irresistible, the hard work begins the next day, as you try to count the broken glasses and dismantle the marquee. So here's the most important marital survival tip for newlyweds: never put each other on a pedestal. Not only is it hard to make love on a pedestal, but you end up lonely, exposed and covered in bird shit. n

Kathy Lette's latest book is 'How To Kill Your Husband And Other Handy Household Hints' (Pocket Books, £6.99)

The rock'n'roll bride

Juliette Wills, 35, founder of the clothing website www.redhotruby.com, married guitarist Gautier Golab, 31, in Brighton last September

Gautier's proposal set the tone for our wedding – he got down drunkenly on one vintage-Levi-ed knee after a gig and said, "Tu veux être ma femme?" I didn't speak French, so I had no idea what he was asking at first.

We met in April and got married in September. When a Frenchman proposes, you don't hang around.

Churches give me the creeps, so I was never going to have a traditional ceremony. We got married at the Brighton Pavilion and I wore a dress that was very ladylike from the front, but backless, so when I turned around, it showed off the tattoos on my shoulders.

I can't stand all the bridesmaid stuff and I banned children, which horrified my mum. We didn't have a "first dance" as Gautier refused, so instead I kicked my shoes off and did a fast jive with a friend to a Gene Vincent number. Rhiannon Harries

The virgin bride

Alexandra Gardner, 23, a social worker, married Phil Sayer, 25, a builder, in 2005

We'd been going out for four years and had an agreement that we would wait till we got married before having sex – we have both been Christians since our early teens. It wasn't easy – in fact, it was horrendous – but it's about self-control and respecting what you believe in.

Dad surprised me with a Ferrari he had hired for the day to take me to the church. It's a Methodist church that I've been going to for the past 20 years and it was my uncle who married us, because he's the pastor there.

Sex was always at the back of my mind and I had a few comments from some of our friends – "Wink wink, nudge nudge, we know what you'll be doing tonight." It was funny.

The reception was at Chipping village hall in Lancashire, where we had a meal and there were Haribo sweets on the tables.

When we got back to the hotel I felt like a little girl. It wasn't a massive worry, but it was something we were both aware of.

Was it what I expected? The first time it's a bit like, "Oh." But because you are in a relationship that you know is for the long term, things come with time and you can relax and try different things. Adam Jacques

The Hello! bride

Hannah Bailey, 37, owner of a recruitment consultancy, married businessman James Horler, 43, in Italy last month

We spent £100,000 on our wedding and it was worth every penny. Everyone wants their day to be special but my husband and I were after more. We wanted the same things we get from our holidays – something luxurious, bespoke and exclusive.

It was second time around for both of us, but if anything, that made us want to go for it even more. We chose Italy as we love the culture and I had seen beautiful photos of celebrity weddings there in Hello!.

Getting married abroad is complicated so I hired a wedding planner; a good one makes you feel like a film star – they hover discreetly, making sure everything is perfect.

Ours organised every last detail, from the travel arrangements for the 17 guests we flew out to a welcome party on a boat, a seven-course wedding meal and a spectacular midnight firework display.

Most of our budget went on accommodation and flights for our guests, but we also held a party for the 200 people we couldn't take to Italy at The Sheraton when we got home.

It was the most beautiful few days and we've already booked to go back next year for our first anniversary. RH

Hannah and James's wedding was organised by Joelle Edwards of Love & Lord (www.loveandlord.com)

The green bride

Consultant Emma Harvey, 39, married Ian Newbold, 37, an IT specialist, in July last year

People imagine a "green" wedding to be some kind of New Age affair, but ours proved that you can stick to your principles without sacrificing your plans fora lovely, traditional day.

I work in sustainability, helping businesses "green up", so it's important to practise what I preach.

I knew a lot about what we could do but I went to a specialist green wedding planner, who gave me lots more ideas.

Transport is the biggest issue, so we ruled out our dream wedding abroad. Luckily we have the beautiful Yorkshire Dales on our doorstep; we founda small hotel there and had some teepees put up in the field next to it.

My husband came up with the idea of setting up our "wedding website", where we encouraged guests to communicate about car-pooling. We also saved paper by putting information on thererather than sending it out.

On the day, we used local suppliers for everything from the meat to the beer, and had fair-trade wines and chocolates.

I'm not a white-meringue wedding dress type of girl, so I deliberately chose oneI could wear again at parties.

We tried not to ram the whole green thing down people's throats. We chose things we really liked that were also green or ethical – it didn't feel at all as though it was a compromise. RH

GreenUnion helped to organize Emma and Ian's wedding. Visit www.greenunion.co.uk

The arranged bride

Theepa Sivagoyan, 24, a trainee solicitor, married Seyagugan Nalliah, 28, an analyst, last month

An arranged marriage was something my parents wanted and I didn't mind doing. If I didn't like someone, they wouldn't have forced me into it.

Seyagugan's family approached my family last year. It took us a few months, checking horoscopes and his caste. Then I met him. He was quite shy, but we got on quite well, so I said, "OK".

My day started at 3am. You get dressed and a beautician does your make-up; everything takes ages. We arrived at the venue in Potters Bar by 10am. There are two saris to wear; the second is a gift from the groom's side, which you wear for most of the day.

The service took several hours. Then we ate. My dad owns a restaurant, so we did the food; lots of curries.

You've got to get married at some stage, or people start talking. So if you find a good match, you might as well do it straight away. None of my friends are married. Their parents would like them to have an arranged marriage too, but they'll probably choose their own guys. I'm more orthodox. AJ

The lesbian bride

Beverley Milner, 34, an HR manager, wed Sarah Simonds, 34, who owns a garden-design company, in July 2006

We were the first of our friends to have a civil partnership; when I realised Sarah was the woman for me it seemed right to make this public declaration.

Civil partnerships were in the news then, so it didn't take too much explaining to family and friends. They'd seen us meet and fall in love, so the overwhelming response was, "Of course you're getting married".

We had our wedding at a gorgeous organic farm in Berkshire, where Sarah used to be a shepherdess. My father had passed away about a month before, so my brother gave me away.

We exchanged vows in a beautifully decorated barn, and in the evening, instead of a disco – which really wasn't our style at all – we took everyone up into the woods on a candle-lit procession to a roaring bonfire.

It was an emotionally exhausting day, but it was worth it to show how much we meant to each other.

The civil partnership also gives us the comfort of knowing we are not going to be discriminated against. We're now Mrs and Mrs; no one can take that way from us. AJ

www.stonewall.org.uk

The vintage bride

Peggy Clarke, 85, married James Mason, 94, last November

I'd been on my own for a long time when I met James at the local day centre for the elderly in Paignton, Devon. At that stage I felt I could die and no one would know.

He introduced himself to me by saying, "There's no need to be lonely." The chemistry was there immediately, and he proposed to me three days later. People said, "Think about it" or "Wait," but at my age I can't wait any longer. And we're old-fashioned – you can't live in sin.

I wanted to have a nice quiet registry wedding with James, at the nearby Oldway Mansion. But after some smart reporter realised we'd broken the record for oldest newlyweds, my quiet wedding went: when I arrived on the day there was a bank of photographers and a camera crew outside – I thought there was royalty coming. We walked up the aisle in the registry office together; I was 84 years old, in a beautiful white gown, a tiara and a little white fur cap. At my age, I never expected that.

We were taken in a limousine to the Palace Hotel; lots of people waved as we drove past, because they knew about the record. When we arrived lots more were waving and cheering. The Palace staff laid on a wonderful reception. I didn't know how many were coming, so I left it in their hands. The mayor and other councillors were there in James's honour, as he was a former mayor of Torbay, and James's family came too.

We still get letters now from America, Australia – everywhere – and even now when I go out, people ask me, "Are you half of the famous couple?" AJ

The ice bride

Louise O'Mara, 22, a trainer for Samsung, wed Chris McQuade, 24, a plumber, last December

We both knew we didn't want to get married in this country; it's expensive, and the church thing didn't appeal. And somewhere hot would've felt like a holiday rather than a wedding. After we saw Lapland in a brochure, we just thought, "Wow"; 17 of us went – mostly family as none of our friends could afford it.

The wedding was at 5pm, so during the day I went to the hairdresser while my family went to elf school. A ride on a sleigh took us to the igloo. It was -12C, but I was too excited to be cold. I had a wedding dress on and a little jacket. Everyone else wore thermals.

It looked like Pingu's igloo but much bigger. Inside, the ceiling was studded with sparkling lights and at the end of the snowy aisle was a raised, iced altar, lit up. The ceremony was only five minutes – just an exchange of vows – which was good, as it was chilly.

There was an ice bar in a separate room, with ice stools and ice tables. We drank pink champagne in glasses with sharp ends that you stick in the snow.

My feet were going numb towards the end, though, as were Chris's fingers. But I was too excited to care. We had a quick dance outside on a slippery, frozen dance floor, then got a sleigh ride through this wooden wilderness back to the hotel. It was magical. AJ

The credit-crunch bride

Nicola Kenny, 32, writer and web editor, married Stuart Ray, 31, an engineer, in June 2006

We were due to take a career break and go travelling for nine months when Stuart proposed. The intention had been to go away first, come back, save again and get married. But I felt it was too long to wait. We worked out that we could spend £5,000 on the wedding and still go travelling.

It had to be a day that would live up to both our parents' expectations. I'm not a "girly girl", but I still wanted a pretty dress, a lovely reception, drink to flow and delicious food.

At the top of a hill where Stuart's parents live is a small church, and their house is 100 yards away, with a large lawn. We had the service at the church (which is almost free; it's up to you how much you donate) and a marquee reception in the garden.

After the ceremony we had cava on the lawn – we had been on a booze cruise to France and paid £3.50 a bottle – and had a sit-down buffet of poached salmon, salads and strawberries and cream, prepared by me, my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law. My mum's best friend made the wedding cake.

Nearly everybody had helped out in some way, from giving patio heaters to doing the photography. Most people were delighted to be involved, and it made such a difference to the atmosphere of it all. AJ

www.cheap-wedding-success.co.uk

The serial bride

Pip Hardy, 54, married Tony Sumner, 48, in 2005. They jointly run the website www.pilgrimprojects.co.uk

After my second marriage ended I decided that I wasn't cut out for relationships. I went into therapy but ended up having a relationship with my therapist.

With so much upheaval, meeting Tony through a friend was an unexpected joy. I lost my cynicism. And after six years of living and working together pretty much 24 hours a day, it felt appropriate to celebrate our relationship by getting married.

I've always had simple weddings – my first was a small country affair with 23 guests, and the second was a Quaker one, where I cooked all the food. But Tony hadn't been married before, so I wanted something special.

We got married in the Kensington & Chelsea registry office in west London at midday, with our friends and family watching.

I was nervous; I felt conscious of having failed with my previous marriages, and I was aware that people might think, "Well, she's done it before so she obviously doesn't take it very seriously."

Afterwards we took everybody to lunch at The Lanesborough Hotel. We had wanted something that reflected us, and we like to eat in nice places, although nothing flashy. I really felt there was something different this time and It felt good to treat the family to something so memorable.

The guests certainly all seemed to enjoy it and were genuinely pleased for us – friends have let me know in the past about relationships they weren't happy with. AJ

The rising cost of wedded bliss

2008

Engagement ring: £1,412
Wedding dress: £977
Photography: £839
Catering: £3,292
Drinks: £1,242
Cake: £205
Reception venue: £2,529
Flowers: £381
Transport: £308
Honeymoon: £3,220
Other: £5,868

Average total cost: £20,273

1996

Engagement ring: £729
Wedding dress: £661
Photography: £353
Catering: £2,285
Drinks: £551
Cake: £189
Reception venue: £1,423
Flowers: £204
Transport: £228
Honeymoon: £2,007
Other: £3,023

Average total cost: £11,653

Source: You & Your Wedding magazine's National Cost of a Wedding Survey, 2008