The summer splicing season is over. Three weddings down, none to go. The brides were beautiful, the grooms were gorgeous, the times were good.
Now to reflect on what I've discovered about being a guest at the nuptials of 2012.
I have learnt that… despite what a certain husband would have you believe, one's wedding outfit is one's own responsibility. If someone says they are taking their stuff to the car, it is reasonable to think that they have included their suit in the category of “stuff”. Any attempt to lay blame when it transpires, 10 minutes away from your destination of a country hotel in, you know, the middle of the countryside, a place known for its abundance of hedges rather than, say, Moss Broses, that said suit is still on the bed in the flat in the city, should be dealt with swiftly and decisively.
...Hardware shops can offer a rich seam of interesting products, such as slightly too small suit trousers, very much too big shirts and just-right tweedy jackets, that can be useful in a wedding-garb emergency. Also that in instances of too big shirts, a handy Sue Ryder charity shop is a godsend.
...Telling everyone where your husband's outfit has come from (“a hardware shop! A dead man's back!”) is the most amazing way to break the ice at a wedding, although you have to be quick about it as said husband will quickly get the hump and ban you from telling anyone else, leaving you to resort to the second most amazing way to break the ice at a wedding, which is to get outside of as much wine as you can find.
...However grumpy your husband is about his random outfit, you should take a picture of it, as once he's got over his mood, he'll want to show off his fashion foraging skills to friends and family.
...Wandering off with new friends at every wedding will hasten the inevitable post-wedding drunken argument you'll have with your partner, and that the bottle of white wine/two gin and tonics you cadge from the weary hotel barman on your return to your lodgings will fuel this row nicely. You'll also wake up looking at a half drunk bottle of wine/two gin and tonics in the morning and hate yourself.
...Leaving your cuddly tortoise behind at the hotel when you leave then having to go back for it isn't a terribly cool look.
But mostly what I've learnt is that after a suitable rest (say about six months), I'll be ready to work hard at all sorts of new lessons next year. Roll on the wedding season of 2013.