My dream wedding? My dream wedding is not occurring. I am not a person who fantasises about weddings, marriage, a big white dress, a church, or anything of the sort. I seem to be categorically lacking the gene that makes me want to get married, or even view it as a worthwhile way to spend my time. I watch Don’t Tell The Bride and think, ‘What are these girls crying about? He didn’t get the right colour tablecloths at the reception? Pull yourself together!’ while ultimately failing to see that for some women, their wedding day is a culmination of a lifetime of hopes and dreams, and the wrong colour tablecloths could destroy it.
However, I do like to dress up.
Yes, I’m going to wear those shoes to my wedding. I’m nearly six feet tall. I don’t enjoy wearing heels. I’m imagining an outdoor wedding. (Before you ask, no I have no idea what is wedding appropriate. All I know is I heart that dress.)
I want a cheeseboard instead of cake. With crackers, and bread. Pate and maybe some olives…