James Burns

James Burns

Bridezilla? You’ve got the wrong number

I’m a bit concerned.

I am now just over six weeks away from my wedding day and if TV programmes, magazines and my friends’ sweepstake are anything to go by, I should have lost my mind by now.

I thought I’d be screaming: 'Bunting! Table Centres! Vintage Limousine!' whenever there’s a lull in conversation. I thought I’d be sending my fiancé daily emails outlining all the things he still needs to do – the doves he’s yet to source, the violinist he needs to book to play Waterfalls by TLC every time I go to the loo, the orders of service I want written in our blood – but I’m not.

Of course this is partly because that list alone would be enough to have me sectioned under the Mental Health Act, but also because there really isn’t that much to do. We have a venue, a band, a dress, a suit, a selection of people who have at least said they’re going to come and watch, and more drink than one should really be allowed to purchase in one go.

If there’s anything that makes me feel like my head’s going to explode it’s not the button holes or the PA system, it’s the fact that we’re getting married. Did you realise it’s, like, a really serious grown up thing? You know we’ll be bound together by law and rings and photographs of us grinning like punch drunk morons forever? You know we’re committing to stay together even if one of us refuses to ever unload the dishwasher?! I can’t be worrying about wedding favours when I’m about to change the contents of two family trees for the rest of time.

I have read about people who have quit their jobs to arrange their weddings and I have two questions for them – firstly, what do you do all day? There’s only so many times I can look at my to-do list (on which the current top item is: 'get better skin by 7th September' method TBC), try on my wedding shoes and think about how much cheese we’ll need for the evening do. I really don’t think I could make a full-time job out of it.

Secondly, what on earth are you going to do when it’s over? The wedding bit is actually only a day long – less in fact, as most don’t kick off ‘til 2pmish. And when it’s over, everybody will just get on with their lives and so will you; the only difference is that you’ll be married and – and I’m sorry to break it to you – your days will probably be a lot less exciting than the wedding one (although filled with eternal love and happiness blablablabla). You’ll still have to wash your pants, make the bed, and take the bin out – wedding ring or no wedding ring – so I’d make sure you put a bit of time aside to make sure you’re cool with that first.

I do wonder, though, if it’s just that I have been lulled into a false sense of security. Sure there’s not much to do NOW when there’s still six weeks to go; I have to scroll three times in my Outlook calendar before I can even see the date. Of course there’s still bits to do but it’s just too soon to do them – I can’t make the table plan until the day before the wedding for fear it’ll fall apart, I can’t put the sweets in their jars as they’ll go off (or I’ll eat them all) and I can’t start applying my make up as it’ll will play havoc with my already troublesome skin.

Perhaps my dose of bridezilla is still yet to come. Maybe I’ll be a late bloomer, finally losing my rag the day before at the sight of a mis-spelled place name or loose rose petal.

Only time will tell. All I’ll say is this – whoever’s got ‘24 hours to go’ in the sweepstake, the drinks are on you. And mine’s a gin and tonic. Large.

Charlotte Reeve lives in London, spends too much time on Twitter, and blogs about all things lady related. She likes staying in, sitting down, and watching Coronation Street – and occasionally going out dancing, as long as nobody touches her. You can read more of Charlotte’s thoughts on her blog Nothing Good Rhymes With Charlotte

Pictured: a happy wedding day, Charlotte Reeve

Share this post

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on email

You might also like

From the Funny Women Team

Liz Kingsman: One Woman Show

When you see One Woman Show — and you will — you’ll want to talk about it to everyone who’ll listen. You’ll want to see it again, maybe twice, and then organise some sort of One Woman Show book club event where you sit around in a circle and list all the funniest and cleverest parts.

Read More »