At the end of March and the beginning of April in 2012 there were two events taking place. The first of which was one that our family had been looking forward to for a long time. My brother Ryan’s wedding. The second was easter, which isn’t usually a big deal at all. Just another bank holiday where everyone stuffs their face with chocolate and enjoys some time of work.
The wedding came with responsibilities like dress fittings, fancy hair up-dos and attempting to find a pair of shoes that would match my dress and not rip my feet to shreds. All week in the run up to the big day it was scorching. I’d taken some time off work for the preceding week, just in case I was needed for any last minute duties but all was taken care of.
The great thing about having the time off was that some of our family were visiting from Canada for my brother’s big day. So I got to spend some time with them. It had been years since I’d seen my cousin and his kids, so long that they were all teenagers now when the last time I had seen them they were just toddlers.
It was a relatively small wedding, in a Church in Bradford-on-Avon where Gemma had grown up. We all got ready at her mum’s house, where we had Champagne for breakfast and I filled up my pretty pink hip flask with Sambuca for later that day. They were lucky with the weather, it wasn’t swelteringly hot as it had been all week and it stayed dry.
I wouldn’t say I was a bad bridesmaid… I wasn’t a good one though. Gemma’s best friend Hayley really pulled off her maid of honour duties. She made sure that Gemma’s every need was attended to on the day. Gemma travelled to the church in a horse and cart with her mum. Her mum also gave her away and she looked amazing. The dress was stunning and every part of the wedding was coordinated really well.
The three of us bridesmaids were all dressed in purple knee length dresses that were a bit like 1950’s style party dresses with pink ruffled petticoats. It was a little chilly so last minute Gemma had added a purple shrug to the ensemble. I’d let my hair grow for the occasion and it was curled and in a half up-do with a pink flower clip. I even wore a little make-up it was the most girly I had felt in a long time.
I was comfortable enough wearing a dress these days, I’d been getting smarter in my appearance over time, mostly thanks to the dress code at work. Also there was a bit more satisfaction in buying clothes these days since I didn’t have to shop exclusively in fatty shops anymore. Good times.
The whole day was beautiful. Everyone looked great, the weather was just right, the reception venue was stunning. Ryan and Gemma had done an amazing job with the planning, choosing the venue, the menu and the size of the party was just right. There actually weren’t many, if any people at the wedding that didn’t all know each other.
Their first dance was pretty cool. It was to Frank Sinatra’s L.O.V.E (I prefer Joss Stones version as I’m Sinatra averse, but it was a great choice for them) and they had the added touch of indoor fireworks that were a big surprise for everyone. Of course given Ryan and the best man’s love of pyrotechnics there had to be some sort of fireworks.
There was this really cool photo booth too with lots of fun party hats, the photos were printed immediately with two copies. One for the guestbook and one as a souvenir to take away as a souvenir. I remember having one with the bride and the other bridesmaids and one with my old school friends.
At some point in the evening I decided that my feet hurt far too much to continue with the heels I was wearing and changed into some pink flip flops, the Sambuca hip flask came out to play and everyone got up and danced. Got to love Saturday Night and the Macerena. A coach was booked to take a load of us back home after the party and the night flowed well from beginning to end.
Despite my best intentions to get drunk and be a bad bridesmaid I was actually rather sober and well behaved at the end of the night and just looking forward to getting home and taking the pins out of my hair. I think the highlights had been the speeches, my Dad’s went rather well and the best man managed to get through his despite the nerves.
The following day we went to Sunday Lunch with my family from across the pond at a local pub and they’d be setting off shortly after. We promised that the next time we saw them it would be in Canada, since it must be our turn to come to them.
After this there wasn’t really much for me to do. I had the rest of the week leading up to the easter weekend off. The weather was delightful again and I made plans to catch up with a few friends. This included Megan, Sophie and many others. I wasn’t expecting to have an eventful week, but it was.