Two's company

Togetherness is tricky. It’s an odd thing to find yourself saying to a newly wed, but it’s true. As I told my daughter, however much you love someone, the day always comes when you wish they were somewhere else. Just so that you can do your own thing, in your own way, in your own time. On your own.

Take shopping, for instance. Most women complain that their men hate shopping. That they have to drag them to malls and supermarkets. My question is – why bother?

I’m married to someone who likes shopping. Only he shops in a different way to me. He plans each trip with military precision. Operation Brent Cross usually involves a series of missions (buy new socks, check out laptops in Apple Store, get birthday present for grandson in Early Learning Centre) carried out at maximum speed in order to return to base by the time the football kicks off on tv.

My way of shopping couldn’t be more different. I may have a vague objective (present for friend’s birthday next month) but I’m quite happy to go into a number of stores seeking inspiration while simultaneously keeping an eye out for: a) an outfit to wear to the birthday party that would be nicer than anything I currently own, b) a pair of shoes to replace the ones I wear when it rains, only I can’t any more because one of the soles has split and c) a bean-bag because my daughter wants one and I’d like to know how much they cost.

It’s quite possible I’ll come back hours later empty-handed. But it's a sure bet that I won't be greeted with ‘Hallo darling,’ but ‘What took you so long?’

Mirror, Mirror

Thanks must go to the Mirror newspaper for alerting me to another must-see tv programme about weddings (ITV1 tonight). This young lady staggered down the aisle in a crystal-encrusted dress weighing 20 stone.

One Big Con?

I have a confession to make. I have been sneakily watching The Big Day on bbc tv. The show is a cross between a house makeover – in this case it’s a venue – and a wedding reality show.

The premise is that some poor couple on a limited budget allow their families to get together with the BD’s ‘experts’ to arrange their wedding in the space of a week. The bride has no idea what her dress will look like, and neither bride nor groom knows where the reception will be held. Will it be in a Scout hut or a stately home? Will the theme be Hollywood – or Robin Hood?

I am clearly not the only wedding-obsessive who’s been watching this. Nor am I the only one who thinks the Beeb’s been cheating again. Rose, who’s been chatting on weddingpath.co.uk, says:

I absolutely am so impressed by what they achieve on that show! They actually brought the beach indoors- very fab- but was anybody else wondering like me? How on earth would they get it back outside again?!!! We never get to see the tidying up that must go into it after the event- it must have taken a while! Also, is it just me or at the end when they total up the cost of everything are there parts that are deliberately missed out such as the wedding make-up, hair, suit hire, accessories, church venue costs, transport, or is that all included in the price - because if it is I'm very impressed that they could produce everything with just £7000!!

Exactly. I smelt a rat, too. I think we should be told.

When Lilibet married her naval officer

Such excitement. This summer an exhibition is being held at Buckingham Palace to celebrate the Queen’s 60th wedding anniversary*. I’m no monarchist, but I can remember how important the event felt back in those belt-tightening, post-war days of rationing and cod liver oil.

Our family had a cardboard cut-out book from which you could create a model of the pageant. It had everything, from the Household Cavalry on their horses to the glittering fairy-tale coach which took pride of place on our mantelpiece. Goodness knows what happened to it (the coach, not the mantelpiece).

I expect my mother chucked it out along with her Lloyd loom chairs, her utility furniture and any other 'vintage' items we might, years later, have been able to put on ebay.

According to Elizabeth Grice (writing in the Daily Telegraph), the morning of Princess Elizabeth’s wedding didn’t go entirely to plan. The bride’s tiara snapped and needed a hasty repair. Her bouquet went temporarily AWOL, and she left the string of pearls she wanted to wear in the wrong palace. As you do.

Isn’t it comforting to learn that a Royal Wedding is as prone to last-minute hitches as any?

*www.royalcollection.org.uk

Some mistake surely?

Organising a wedding – especially when you only have ten weeks – requires so much attention to detail that it’s difficult to keep on top of everything else you should be doing at the same time. While I was configuring seating plans and ordering flowers I was (with my work hat on) looking for a new assistant. I picked the wrong one.

She started the week after the wedding and I think we both suspected from the start it was a mistake. I felt pretty sure when I asked her to find me the Times splash and then discovered she'd been keying those exact words into a Google search. No doubt she felt pretty sure when she discovered she had a grumpy old woman as her boss.

Anyway, she’s gone and I’ve started the process all over again.

Under less pressure now, I have time to despair at the applications. Or laugh. Here is a selection (from today’s 2:1 graduates):

*I knew from an early age that I wanted to get into journalism but instead opted to do French.

*The job will be the perfect platform to give you the boost you need to start a career. Therefore many people and me will be applying for this position.

*PERSONEL STATEMENT
An ambitious graduate journalist …

*I have been writing since childhood and have developed my own distinctive style without losing the ability to be fluid and can write using a style guide and to a brief on time whilst under pressure.

After a while I lost track of the number of misplaced apostrophes, misspelt driving licenses and other basic errors.

I learned to hate the phrase ‘field of journalism’ – why limit yourself to a field? Why not a meadow or a prairie?

I identified ‘third eye syndrome’, a condition where the first three paragraphs of a covering letter (possibly more) all start with the word I.

I never want to have to read another statement that talks about people skills ever, ever again. (See, it’s contagious).

Interviews start next week.

Time goes by

My daughter has now been married for seven weeks and four days. I wonder if she’s counting.

Back in 1965 – the year I had my first real boyfriend - I used to keep track of how long we’d been dating. My diary entry for Monday Jan 25 reads: 2wks. Met Tom after school. Waited for bus with me. Washed hair. Planned Chas 1 essay. Half-heartedly began revision.

Clearly the Swinging Sixties were passing me by – although prior to this I do recall being taken to see the Beatles at the Finsbury Park Astoria by a young man whom I subsequently (and ungratefully) dumped.

I had to stop and think about the length of time I’ve known my husband. I was mildly appalled to work out it has been 32 years. We’ve only been married for 22, though, which makes me feel slightly less ancient.

With luck, I think we might make our silver wedding. Maybe I will get my set of matching towels after all.

Time Travels

Weddings are a wonderful source of stories. Loved the latest about the Toronto-based teacher Dave Barclay. He flew 3,500 miles across the Atlantic to attend a mate’s wedding only to find that - unlike the hapless Huw Grant character in FWAAF - far from being late, he was a year too early.

The misunderstanding arose after he got an email from a mate in Cardiff, saying he was getting married on July 6. The trouble was, he meant July 2008.

Dave - who clearly has no idea how long it takes to organise most weddings - has taken it all in good spirit apparently, telling BBC Wales that at least it should assure him a mention in the speech next year.