Claudia Winkleman: Take It From Me

'Can I come to the church again? I'd love to. Is it OK if I bring a copy of Grazia and a bag of Hula Hoops?'
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The Independent Online

A couple who got married a month ago in Brighton lost their wedding video. Instead of saying "drat" and getting on with their new life together, they are planning to go through the whole event again so they can video it for a second time. Just so they have the memory on tape.

I know. It's too good to be true, isn't it? This is the sort of news story columnists wait their whole lives for. Anyway, they're called Shaun and Anzhela and they're from Bexhill in Essex. You see, I am not making this up.

To go through the hassle, the table plan, the bloody garter, the expense. Again. For a bit of moving footage. Seriously, they want it on tape and the only way they can do it is by getting married again. Same place, same people, same speeches and same dress. I KNOW.

Now, let's be clear. There's nothing I like more than wasting time – current top three hobbies: 3. Collecting all the hair bands in my house and placing them in a ramekin next to the bath; 2. Watching Quincy; 1. Sitting around and having a think – but even I know that going through the same event twice is just weird.

The morning-of-the-day butterflies that get you thinking, "Is he the man for me?" Well, Anzhela might go through them again but this time she can't get out of it. She can't fantasise about racing out of the registry office shouting "it's too soon" and "where did all the fun go?" It's too late, love. You're hitched already. So yes, you can feel queasy, and if you need to squeeze your mum's hand for the camera, that's fine, but, you know, he's yours and you're his. It's a done deal.

Then there's the nerve-racking "will he like my dress" moment. Um, again, presumably he liked it before so no surprises there. Her husband Shaun will have to mimic a sharp intake of breath and mutter, "You've never looked so beautiful," and she'll be thinking, "Yes I have. I looked this good about a month ago. Except my hair was four centimetres shorter."

The guests will have to "ooh" and "aah" at the flowers, at the dress, at the little petals thrown on the floor before the bride. Can you imagine being a guest at the same wedding twice? Sure, you've still got the outfit in the cupboard, and even though the jaunty lilac feather head structure has got a bit of sick on it, no one will notice.

Can I come to the church again, dear? To listen to your old flatmate read out some soppy endless passage from A A Milne? Would love to. Is it OK if I bring a copy of Grazia and a bag of Hula Hoops this time round?

I mean, to go through it all again only to make sure they capture a bridesmaid blowing her nose on a tablecloth and so that they can get Uncle Ralph rocking out to Lionel Richie's "Dancing on the Ceiling". It all seems a bit much.

Also, they had better be brilliant actors. At speech time everyone will laugh before the funny bits and most people will boo the best man before he's even stood up. "He's the guy who made too many jokes last time," the aunties will say. He won't stand a chance.

As for the last dance. Well, it wasn't was it? If it were the last one, they wouldn't be doing it again: twirling round the dance floor under the glitter ball again – but this time she'll be thinking about tomorrow's Ocado delivery and trying to remember if she's shaved her legs.

Weddings happen once. That's the point. They're a bluster of confetti and hope all wrapped up in sticky wedding cake and four-year-old girls in big dresses with massive bows. Everyone gets pissed, believes in true love for an instant, and then it's time to go home and throw up in the loo. If you go for the same thing a second time, then it will lose its sparkle and its romance.

I know they don't have a video and I feel bad about that, but it is all in their heads. If I close my eyes shut I can remember my dad's face when he saw me in my dress (a gargantuan white tulle thing) and I can still smell my husband's neck (in a nice way) as I spent most of the evening with my head pressed against it. I remember Aretha Franklin and a balcony, and I remember singing next to a piano with a lot of my friends. No one videoed it and most people were too plastered to remember it. But I don't think it matters.

What would be the point of doing it again? To get a great video of me gliding up the aisle? To shoot a moving scene between me and my parents, talking about how much I love them? To capture the look in my husband's eyes when he said "I do"? To catch us giggling and kissing in the back of the car on the way to our hotel?

Hmmm. Anzhela and Shaun have a point. Forget hair bands, and bugger Quincy, I'm getting the meringue out of the closet and I'm hiring a three-man crew. What am I doing this week? I'm getting married.

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