Saturday, 11 September 2010

The saga of a bride

We did it, we are Mr & Mrs Hallam! – The story in segments….

After 6 and a half years together we have finally tied the knot.  I have neglected my little blog for quite sometime due to the work that was involved in getting the whole show going. 

Much has happened since the last update so I’ll do this in stages.  This entry will be brief, about the dresses.

The new dresses were ordered for the flower girls, with an anticipated delivery within 4 days or ordering.  After a week I made a call to customer services advising me the order was cancelled due to lack of stock.  There was to be no replenishment until autumn, in autumnal colours!  I was most disappointed, they had not attempted to contact me with this news, nor, at this point, had I received a refund!  Long story short, money was refunded, bridesmaid shopping date was set with the girls and I developed a grumpy resentment towards Debenhams.

Now, not only did I have the flower girls to shop for, one of the bridesmaids was not to keen on the colour of her dress.  Both dresses were too large and my seamstress was unreachable, so it was back to the drawing board there also.  Some of my usherettes were also asking if they ‘really had to wear white or green?’  By this point the shine was really rubbing off the whole bridal party lark.   Actually it was beyond dull and into tarnished, and a few tears were becoming more frequent.

I was beginning to feel like a monster, I was becoming irate at things that really shouldn’t bother an independent 32 year old woman.  Brand new underwear not fitting despite being professionally fitted (Debenhams again I am afraid to say), resulting in the need for a return.  This would have been less frustrating, had the size issue not become apparent at my penultimate dress fitting.  As a result, not only did I have to make a trip back to the store for a refund, but I also had to book a return 80 mile round trip to the bridal shop for an extra fitting of my dress.

Other things that were upsetting me were the endless trips down the motorway to move stones, in the rain, or to visit people who couldn’t come to visit me through no fault of their own, but when you feel down, you feel like the world is against you!  Social events and university became an unnecessary drain on my time.  I am usually so enthused and involved in my studies, but I did the bare minimum that I could to scrape a pass, in fact I am not sure I even did that, as the results are not yet in!  Gym classes, weight watcher meetings and school governor meetings were also just another day or evening that would consume my dwindling timeframe.

Every minute outside of work was dedicated to ‘The wedding’.  And the clock was ticking.  The yard still needed clearing, the kitchen, showers and toilets still needed fitting, this was before the bar could be built, the marquees could be erected, the big clean could begin, and the decorating could commence.  So each time I had to lose a three hour window to drive to a shop and back, I was driven closer to distraction.

I had reached the point where I was reconsidering the whole thing.  Rob and I could just go to the registry office as soon as they could fit us in.  Just do it in peace with the pressure off, nothing else mattered, it really didn’t!

There were a few moments like that, the Sunday morning three weeks before the wedding, crying in the rain, sat on a tractor asking myself ‘what sort of bride does this??!!’. 

There was the day that my girlfriends from home were due to visit to do wedding planning.  It was the only date that we had all been available to meet.  The first time ever that they would all come and visit me, I was too sick for visitors. 

The countless times that Rob joked that it was ‘nothing to do with me, I have no say in it’ before I had to ask him to stop winding me up.

The hair and make up artist, and supposed friend who stood me up on my trial who subsequently disappeared off the face of the earth leaving me to find available wedding stylists at 5 weeks notice, who does that? 

The weather reports for the 7th August that were looking bleaker with every update. 

With each hurdle, the kind I would normally leap over screaming ‘yahoooo’, I got a little worn down, less able to sleep and I completely lost my sense of humour. 

Each of these occasions however reminded me of what truly mattered.  Rob and I wanted to marry each other.  We want to spend the rest of our lives together.  We will be a family. 

If people turn up, great!  The more the merrier.  Let them wear what they want, they will be happier for it.  If we have a completed barn, we will party in there, if not we will decorate what we do have.  If it rains, so what, we have already advised people to bring umbrellas and wellington boots.  If we run out of booze, there is a pub within walking distance and a supermarket a taxi ride away and should we run out of food, we can order takeaway.

Circumstances did improve from that point on, and the niggles that arose were met with a more positive outlook.  Bollocks, it was met with apathy, but either way the crap no longer upset me. 

My good friend Claire is also my beautician, she offered to step in to do my bridal make up, my local hairdresser does not do hair up but my Mum and sister still use my old hairdressers Havana in Marple Bridge, they just so happened to have a cancellation for the date of the wedding.  Someone in heaven, or a whole team of them, were looking out for me. 

The bridesmaid shopping trip was a success, the flower girls dresses from Monsoon cost a lot more than I had budgeted for but they were stunning.  Ivory silk pleated skirt with scalloped vest and gold beading.  Debenhams redeemed themselves with two contenders, and floral fifties poodle dress, and the winner, a jade green dress with single shoulder detail.  Again, these dresses were way over budget, and lets not forget I had already bought four dresses that I could no longer return, but the bridesmaids were happy therefore the bride was too!

I said this would be brief, I got carried away, sorry.  Next instalment will be all about my fabulous hens, with almost no moaning J  At least not about Debenhams or hens anyway!!

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