Our guide to getting married in simple, effortless style

This weekend, four top footballers will walk their WAGs down the aisle in true Premiership style. But horse-drawn carriages and his'n'hers thrones just aren't for everyone

There's a new sport in town to rival competitive poker, competitive rambling and competitive abseiling. It's called competitive wedding, and the rules are simple. The participants must be very rich, their fiancées very beautiful, and they must be prepared to spend reckless, Homeric, farcical amounts of money celebrating their union in front of famous, if secretly envious, associates. It's vital that each couple should spend conspicuously more than other nuptialists on wedding clothing, flowers, a reception venue, a cake, entertainment and a honeymoon. The most competitive players will go the final mile by picking a date for the wedding that coincides with the weddings of friends, in order to force their mutual pals to take sides.

The big event in the 2007 Competitive Wedding calendar is this Saturday, 16 June, when a veritable stampede of sporting-celebrity weddings will descend on the English countryside and the Sunday newspapers will be submerged in a torrent of taffeta, satin, check waistcoats, rose bouquets, Laurent-Perrier, fancy hats, embarrassing speeches, ill-advised dancing and late-night vomit. Captains John Terry (Chelsea and England), Gary Neville (Manchester United), Steven Gerrard (Liverpool) and Michael Carrick, Neville's United and England team-mate, will all tie the knots with their girlfriends, respectively Toni Poole, Emma Hadfield, Alex Curran and Lisa Roughead, long-term members of the WAG platoon.

Celebrity magazines are poised to report on the minutiae of the warring wedders: which happy event had the more imaginative "decor", the more luminous guest list, the more expensive design consultant. "There's a strong element of everyone trying to outdo each other," said Kirsty Mouatt, editor of New! (a stable-mate of OK! which is rumoured to have bought the rights to at least one of the events). "The gold standard was set by Posh and Becks in 1999, with the throne and the doves, and nobody could easily top that. But John Terry is spending £1m and has hired Peregrine Armstrong-Jones, who was Becks' wedding planner, so..."

Wedding commentators identify several vital components of the modern competitive wedding: 1) The bride's dress must be a couture item constructed after several fittings in Paris or Milan. 2) Everyone must compete to sign up the same top florist, cake-maker, wedding-planner etc. 3) The reception must be held at a stately home or castle, ideally one which has been the site of previous celebrity nuptials. 4) A famous, if just-slightly-past-it, chanteuse or entertainer must be signed up to perform for guests, at shocking expense (John Terry has apparently secured the services of Lionel Richie; Steven Gerrard, having failed to get Girls Aloud, is making do with Gary Barlow). 5) The children of the bride and groom's pre-marital union should be on hand, dressed up to look like cute accessories.

"People love watching these weddings," said Mouatt, "because it's like watching a massive stage show."

Some ordinary mortals, however, try to join in. Although marriage is declining in popularity (9.2 people in every 1,000 got hitched in 2005, compared with 11 per 1,000 a decade before), the glamour quotient continues to rise. Fewer of us are getting married, but when we do, by God we push the boat right out. Two years ago we spent - across the nation - a hefty £15,000 on the big occasion. Now it's £17,000. It is thought mean to spend less than £1,000 on a wedding dress. Glossy magazines proliferate (Bride, Brides, Wedding, You and Your Wedding, even An Essex Wedding) and last December, Wedding TV was launched on Sky with a budget of £20m. The industry is worth a staggering £5.3bn annually.

The actual conduct of the events has become hot news. Before the Beckham extravaganza, weddings tended to follow a predictable trajectory: church service in morning suits, photographs on the greensward, then a reception at whichever hotel was nearest to the bride's home, there to drink Freixenet and eat finger sandwiches. This now seems hopelessly provincial. At the end of each year in the Noughties, newspaper round-ups have routinely nominated the weddings of the year. Their opulence has grown familiar. Last year Cheryl Tweedy and Ashley Cole got spliced in Wrotham Park, Hertfordshire, he in a white suit, she in a superhero tiara. They celebrated at Highclere Castle; the ring allegedly cost £150,000.

Ant, of Ant and Dec fame, got married in Taplow, Bucks, arriving at the church in a Bentley with his showbiz partner and best man. He turned down overtures of £1m from the glossies, but spent an expensive first night at Cliveden, in the room where Christine Keeler once beguiled the late John Profumo. In Medialand, the year's big wedding was Adam Boulton and Anji Hunter's. They were married in St James's Church, Piccadilly, their mutual exchange of vows interrupted by the noise of 10,000 demonstrators loudly protesting about Israel's involvement in the Lebanon, before decamping to a £35,000 reception at Spencer House, Princess Diana's family home.

As we get older, it seems we're invited to celebrate more weddings - our friends' second marriages, our gay friends' civil partnerships, our friends' children. Do we have to join in with all the crazy expenditure? Must the bride's family spend a fortune to have their darling girl's white gown hand-sewn with Swarovski crystals? Relax. Let our Independent panel of experts on etiquette, élan and expenditure suggest how you can get spliced in style, without breaking the bank or destroying the planet...

The Dress

Even the most emancipated woman reverts to tradition, and sometimes full-on fantasy, when it comes to choosing her wedding gown. This is one time in a woman's life when she may feel free to indulge in unadulterated sartorial whimsy, whether that be of the requisite meringue variety or otherwise.

There will inevitably be a queue of friends and relatives ready to stick their oar in about what to wear on the big day. The best advice for a bride to follow is her own. She may be the most innovative dresser in everyday life but choose to wear classic Vera Wang to her wedding. Conversely, a twin-set and pearls kind of girl may opt on her wedding day for the folkloric three-legged trouser suit. That is entirely her prerogative.

If there is any good advice, it is probably to ignore seasonal fashion. Failure to do so will mean that those who marry this summer, for example, must do so in a micro-mini wedding dress, rarely a good look.

That's not to say that fashion should be ignored entirely. The Browns Brides concept - designer dresses that happen to be white(ish) selected by the iconic store's buyers - has been a huge hit with those who would rather not follow the department/bridal store route. Alber Elbaz, the man behind the ultra-feminine but never prissy Lanvin label, is also designing his first off-the-peg wedding dresses. Those for whom money is no object, meanwhile, have the esteemed Parisian couture houses to choose from, all of which have wedding gowns designed to appeal to the daughters of their favourite clients.

Comme des Garçons protégée Tao Kurihara has made probably the most idiosyncratic gesture in recent bridal-wear history. Tao's complex and, yes, meringue-like designs are presented in paper. "Paper is so fragile and not appropriate for overuse," she says. "I thought a paper wedding dress would be more special than one that was crafted out of a more traditional material."

Susannah Frankel

The Service

This is the important bit: where the bride and groom say vows, trade rings, and sign a register that solemnly declares them to be man and wife. It's jollified by music, readings, and tearful hankie-rubbing at the entrance of the bride.

The happy couple have three major options when choosing a location: church, register office, or separate licensed venue.

An English church is the ne plus ultra of venues for a traditional white wedding. Church-wedding couples are still required to make important choices, though. For example, the bride must decide whether she'll promise to "obey" her groom, as per the traditional format, or simply "love, honour and cherish" him.

Readings must also be carefully selected, and paired with a close friend who won't make a bish of it. Another hornets' nest involves hymns. Choose songs everyone knows, but steer clear of cliché. "Jerusalem", for instance, is overplayed. "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind" is just right.

The church service has two common failings, though. Firstly, it's religious and if everyone knows the bride and groom are confirmed atheists there'll be a whiff of hypocrisy about your special day. Secondly, while every little girl dreams of tying the knot in an ancient, leafy home-counties village church, the CofE requires her to marry in her home parish.

All of which brings us on to the registry office. Although much-maligned as a marital sausage factory, the carefully-prepared registry wedding can end up being as touching as any CofE effort. The key is planning. Civil ceremonies involve a certain amount of mandatory stuff (the registrar will inform you of this) but music, readings and soundtrack are your choice. Choose carefully, make it personal, and few guests won't be touched.

If the local register office isn't for you, then changes in the law mean Britons can now get married in thousands of different licensed venues at home, as well as abroad.

Guy Adams

The Baubles

Any bride who turns up to the ceremony in a carriage driven by white-plumed horses should be redirected to the nearest Cockney funeral. A horse and cart is fine, but the animals should under no circumstances be decorated. It's probably safer to arrive in a vintage car.

Sensible flower choice is essential: sticky stamens can be a nightmare. A hanging basket under the main entrance is a good idea, but remember not to water it too soon before the ceremony. A wedding dress spattered with green will ruin the day.

Inside the venue, don't go overboard. If it's a pewed, affair, one bouquet every three rows will do the trick. Any more and the hayfever sufferers will sneeze all throughout the vows. Also, save the bunting for the marquee.

At any British wedding, it's important to establish the inner circle, and buttonholes are the perfect way to do this. But remember that buttonholes should never be part of a colour theme. If everything down to the buttonholes is baby blue, you've stepped over the fine line that separates "good with details" and obsessive-compulsive.

When it comes to the wedding rings, there are only two rules: make them round, and make them thin. That's it. No charming messages engraved on the inside, no patterns, and definitely no jewels. Let the engagement ring do the talking.

Ed Caesar

The Entourage

The wedding is, by common consent, the bride's big day. Also the groom's, but he will be too nervous to enjoy it. It's also the big day for the bride's parents, who are paying for it, and the groom's parents, who are pretending to enjoy becoming "family", and the blood-relation offshoots, who are pleased to be invited for a day's free gorging and sluicing. But the rest of the wedding party? Whom shall we invite and whom leave out?

Steer clear of problematic connections. Ex-lovers of the happy couple are best not invited. Unfriendly spouses ditto (Cherie Blair conspicuously did not attend the Boulton-Hunter wedding).

Do not stint on single men. You'll need a claque of 12 to laugh at the best man's speech and cop off with the bridesmaids.

The bride need not invite every female of her acquaintance, much as she might like to. Restrict the list to those whom she'd choose to invite on a chartered jet to Mauritius.

Be brutal about inviting children, unless they're the bride's or groom's, or are pageboys. Kids get under your feet, steal all the cake and gum up the dance floor.

Wedding crashers tend to be nothing like Owen Wilson or Vince Vaughn. They are mostly thirsty, boorish opportunists. Get them out of there pronto, before they consume all the Krug '82.

Token presences. Every wedding party is allowed just one picturesque drunkard, one over-enthusiastic dancer, one blowsy nymphomaniac, one lecherous ex-boss, and one famous acquaintance for the party to gawp at. All should be included in the guest list.

Office colleagues occupy a grey area: they're not close enough friends to invite (and they probably haven't have met your fiancée) but you can't ignore them. Ask them just to the reception, explaining that the church is "too small to take everybody", and the real well-wishers will make the effort.

John Walsh

The Reception

Wedding receptions are like school discos. Guests arrive in brand-new clothes, intending to dazzle peers with their witty repartee. But by the end of the evening they're being poured into a taxi with wine down their trousers, having left a trail of disgrace on the dancefloor.

First, though, the venue. A marquee at the bride's family home is the traditionalist's choice, combining an atmosphere of summery excess with just the right amount of homeliness. It also feels special: a whole tented fun-palace, built just for you.

However, if you baulk at the marquee industry's reckless profiteering, or if the bride's parents have an inadequate garden, it's time to look at alternatives. Hotels and restaurants can be hit and miss: some are excellent, others have about as much class as a Hilton breakfast. So proceed with caution, and conduct exhaustive research.

The footballer's choice is a stately home, or other grand building, most of which are rented out all summer long in order to pay the Winter heating bills. These are splendidly romantic - some might say too romantic - and the terms of rental allow you to personalise your big day, more or less as you see fit. The cost can be astronomical, though.

At the venue, it's become de rigueur for the happy couple to spend an eternity posing for photographs before kick-off. Try to avoid this: not only will your guests be bored rigid, they'll also have drunk their weight in champagne by the time your wedding breakfast begins.

Speeches have also become a drag. Strictly, there should be just three: groom, father of the bride, and best man. Any more smacks of self-indulgence. Yet modern receptions sometimes feature contributions from friends, brothers, and (heaven forbid!) even the bride herself.

By coffee time, your audience has, on average, two bottles of booze nestling in their stomach, and are positively aching to hit the dancefloor. Don't make them wait: keep speeches short and funny, and just the right side of vulgar. Never say anything that may vaguely offend the bride. Always remember that it's her special day.

Entertainment traditionally includes the tackiest of tacky discos. Don't mess with this format: it is meant to be. If you want to jazz things up, think about hiring a rock 'n' roll band, or Reel outfit, to get people in the mood before your DJ hits his wheels of steel.

The bride and groom's final duty is their first dance. This will involve some loss of dignity, so go with the flow. Choreographed routines work superbly, and show that you've made an effort, but the groom must remember that straight men never dance too competently.

As for your special song, go for an old classic, but don't fall into the trap of choosing a slow number. Whitney Houston, or that theme from Titanic, will feel like sentimental rubbish. Instead, go up-tempo. Fleetwood Mac's "Everywhere" is the greatest wedding song ever.

Guy Adams

The Food

First things first: a hungry guest is not a happy guest. After the ceremony, give them some fizz and throw something down their gullets pronto. "Cute" miniature meals - baby fish and chips or tiny Cornish pasties - are a little 2003, and should be avoided. 2007 is all about big, juicy canapé treats that can be eaten with a cocktail stick. You can't go wrong with sausage from The Ginger Pig.

For the wedding breakfast, it's all about the booze. Make sure there is never less than one full bottle of wine per person, on every table. The wine doesn't have to be award-winning, just the sort you might choose on a second date. At no point should guests be asked to make their way to a cash bar.

No one remembers a good wedding meal, but everyone remembers a bad one. So keep it simple, and keep it to three courses. Naturally, there are some big no-nos. No meal should include Chicken Kiev, Peach Melba or prawn cocktail. Also, historically themed meals such as medieval feasts, Roman banquets and the like are indescribably tacky, and will subject the happiest day of your life to life-long ridicule.

There's nothing wrong with the traditional tiered wedding cake, but any more than four tiers is flash. Three is preferable. White icing goes without saying - no pink, please! - but the filling needs careful consideration. Chocolate might seem like a good idea, but the bride won't thank you for those brown smudges on her dress. Fruit is traditional, but gives the oldies wind. A light sponge will keep everyone happy.

An hour before carriages, all the remaining guests should receive a bacon sandwich and/or a bag of chips. This might sound somewhat downmarket, but if you can pull off a good drunken snack, the gratitude you will receive for this one remarkably simple gesture will endure for a surprisingly long time to come.

Ed Caesar

The Gifts

The idea of writing a wedding list stuffed with items they crave can send some brides and grooms into an orgy of grasping bad taste. It's important to emphasise that you want people's presence rather than their presents.

However, "asking for what you want has become more acceptable," says Jo Ryde, gift list manager at John Lewis. "It's better for the guests because they are reassured that what they select is exactly what the bride and groom are after."

But remember: it's not your right to receive exactly what you want. Debrett's advises that it's OK for guests to boycott wedding lists, especially wedding "funds", as long as they make their gifts imaginative should they go off-list.

When putting together your list, include options for all price ranges. A 99p spoon may be all some guests can afford. Alternatively, groups of friends or family can club together to splash out on something more expensive. Make sure your partner is involved - you're not writing a letter to Santa, after all. Go for a mix of traditional and modern gifts, too: iPods and plasma televisions are popular with grooms, but your great-aunt might prefer to give you a tablecloth rather than a bit of technologically brilliant kit.

If you put vouchers on your wedding list, make sure you add a note telling your guests what you intend to buy. It's only polite. Consider some charity items as well. Traditionalists may balk at the idea of buying a goat for an underprivileged family in the developing world, but it's good to give something back in the midst of all this receiving.

It's becoming more acceptable to ask for money towards your honeymoon, but be aware that some guests may find it tacky. The new online trend of vouchers for honeymoon cocktails, flight upgrades or safari trips is beyond naff.

After the wedding, try not to swap items. According to Jo Ryde, it's very bad form to trade in one vase for another, especially if you don't tell the person who gave it to you.

Finally, and most importantly, say thank you. Online wedding lists will email you detailing who bought what, so that you can tailor your thank-you letters accordingly.

Rebecca Armstrong

The Honeymoon

Seychelles? St Lucia? The Serengeti? These might be the aspirational honeymoon destinations for John Terry et al. But for anyone planning to marry and start a family, and therefore with half an eye on the welfare and future of the planet, the solution for a sophisticated and sensitive honeymoon is simple: Sandwich.

The pretty Cinque Port (now marooned two miles from the coast of Kent) is a kind of British Bruges: the most complete medieval town in England. It is accessible in two hours by train from London, and by extension barely five hours by rail from Old Trafford or Anfield.

Sandwich also boasts one of the select group of The Place Hotels, the Bell (01304 613 388; www.bellhotelsandwich.co.uk). This listed building on The Quay overlooks the River Stour, and the best views in the house are from the balcony of the bridal suite. The price for a night in the suite, kitted out with a four-poster bed dressed with Egyptian cotton sheets, is just £190 including breakfast and free Wi-Fi for all those thank-you emails. (This rate compares with £970 a night on North Island in the Seychelles, though admittedly that tropical isle, unlike East Kent, was used as a location for The Thunderbirds film.)

Where Sandwich really scores for romantic travellers, though, is a shop at 28 King Street: the premises of Arthur Lock, the éminence grise of tandemry. He dispenses bicycles made for two to couples who are made for each other. A transport of delightfully light footprint need not cost the earth: Mr Lock (01304 617161) will sell you an upmarket Raleigh tandem for an on-the-bikepath price of only £550.

The Garden of England, all gentle gradients and soft-focus views, is ideal tandem territory: honeymooners can set their pulses racing by following National Cycle Network route 1 to the beautiful and romantic city of Canterbury - finishing post for the first stage of next month's Tour de France. Under no circumstances should either partner mention the celebrated saying about the world's leading cycle race: L'amour c'est comme le Tour de France: on l'attend longtemps et il passe vite ("Love is like the Tour de France: you wait for ages then it passes in a flash").

Simon Calder