Friday, 28 January 2011

The "crying bit"

Despite all the vibrant colours, glamorous clothes and stacks of presents involved in Indian weddings, I have to admit that there is one part that I am really dreading. While the official name of this dreaded aspect is "vidaai", I often refer to it as the "crying bit". 

Have you ever had to cry on demand? Because this is basically what it entails. While this post-wedding ritual/extremely odd tradition allows the bride's family to openly express their sadness at "losing" a daughter, it also gives the bride a chance to smudge her make-up and snot all over her expensive clothes. 

At my sister's wedding (four years ago), when the "crying bit" came, I was worried that if I didn't cry, I would look like the evil sister who couldn't wait to see her go. 


However, when the moment came, I was a big ball of snot and tears. I, too, shamelessly jumped on the crying bandwagon, and - in a frighteningly honest public display of affection - cried hysterically at the thought of "losing" my sister. 

Of course, I didn't really lose her. And of course, my parents won't really lose me. This is all very dramatic and belongs - ultimately - to the realms of overly-emotional Bollywood movies. (The kind your parents watch on a Sunday afternoon, while sipping tea and tearfully reminiscing about days gone by). 

But do you know what the worst part is? Not the melodrama, not the scary make-up effects, and not even the uncontrollable snot (because, let's face it, the Groom-to-be has already married you - be as snotty as you like, it's simply too late). The worst part is (for me anyway) the "stress rash" I get when I cry too much. That's right: big, angry, red blotches that cover my entire body like a patchwork (or cruel joke) of nature. 

In Juliet's words (well, Shakespeare's), "parting is such sweet sorrow". She obviously didn't need an antihistamine. 

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

How to avoid becoming Bridezilla

Having spent the past week indulging myself with this blog - writing about myself, my wedding, my dress, etc etc - I am very aware that (as scary as it is) every bride has the potential to become a complete and utter Bridezilla. For this reason, here are a few things I have to keep reminding myself of...


  • listen to your mother when she tells you that 2-hours is more than enough time for your hairdresser to get you ready. It's okay to share him. 
  • remember that the wedding budget is not an unlimited pot of gold. (NB. If you don't take this one seriously, then be prepared for a Butlin's honeymoon in Skegness). 
  • make sure to ask the Groom-to-be what he thinks. Your wedding is not a one-woman show.
  • have a sense of humour. Weddings can be crazy, families can be crazier, and the bride tends to be the craziest of all. 


  • expect everyone to talk/think about your wedding all the time. They are not unemployed and obsessive like you lucky enough to have lots of free time. 
  • spend all day sitting on your arse watching "Three Fat Brides, One Thin Dress". You might find it funny now, but if you don't get up and do some exercise, you might not be laughing in 6 months time when your perfect dress doesn't fit. 
  • fuss over every tiny little bit of dust on your wedding dress. It's the trail. It trails along the floor. What do you expect?  
  • spend more time blogging about planning the wedding than actually planning the wedding. (This one might be quite difficult). Having ten more followers won't be much compensation when you realise you've forgotten to order the wedding cake. 

Is there anything you can add to this list? I would love to hear your thoughts/advice on how to avoid becoming Bridezilla... 

Monday, 24 January 2011

The One

The "bride gene": does every girl have it? Does every girl want it? I'm not so sure.  Or at least, I wasn't sure until... until I met The One. The perfect One. The One that completed me. The One that made everything worthwhile. The One that instantly filled me with an overwhelming sense of excitement and joy.

Wait. Before you write me off as a soppy cow, give me a chance to explain. The One that I am referring to is ivory and satin (and no, that isn't a euphemism for caucasian and soft-skinned). That's right guys, I'm talking about The DressI won't go in to too much detail - for fear of the Groom-to-be discovering the other love in my life (though I will post pictures of it after the wedding) - but I can tell you that it is beyond perfection. 

Check out the fabulous range at Dona Nicole to see where I found The One. From what I am told, this is the largest bridal wear shop in the midlands; and from my own experience, I can tell you that it is wedding dress heaven. I tried on eight beautiful dresses - though it was the sixth that changed my life - and was able to pick up a designer wedding dress at an excellent price. 

The experience of standing on a platform in a big white wedding dress and looking in three mirrors (one in front, one behind and one at the side) made me feel like a real princess. Or a child playing dress-up. 

Friday, 21 January 2011

The Numbers Game

What often surprises people most about Indian weddings is the (insanely large) amount of people that get invited. My sister got married a few years ago, and there were eight hundred people at her wedding reception (honestly, I'm not joking). 

"The Numbers Game", then, is the battle between the bride - who only wants to invite close family and friends - and her parents, who want to invite everybody they know. And their neighbours. And the uncle of the guy who invited them to his daughter's wedding back in 1980 (you get the picture).

Our wedding will, by Indian standards anyway, be notably smaller. If you are wondering why, I must be honest and tell you that I did not win The Numbers Game - not at all. However, the Groom-to-be has a rather small family. His guests (including friends, family - close and distant - and friends of family) total 50 people; my immediate family and closest friends total way more than 50 people. 

It seems that the best way to avoid The Numbers Game altogether is to:

  1. Give in
  2. Elope
  3. Marry a non-Indian (my personal favourite)

Oh well, at least that's one less game to play.

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

And so the journey begins...

Well, actually, it began back in October when the Groom-to-be popped the question (in the most romantic way ever, might I add). When is the big day, I hear you ask? This coming August. That's right: less than a year between saying "I will" and "I do". Good job I have enthusiastic parents who were already well in to the wedding planning process. No, that's not weird. That's Indian. 

Anyway, given that this is an introductory post, I might as well stop rambling and set the scene. Me and my other half met in Paris (cliche? no... massively romantic? perhaps) more than three years ago. Since then, we have been on a roller-coaster journey - you know, the ups, the downs, the oh-my-god-this-is-so-scary-yet-exciting-all-at-the-same-time - and made our way back to London. (Isn't it ironic that I went to Paris for an ERASMUS exchange and came back with a German man?) 

Since last October, we have been thrown in to the deep end of wedding planning, but - thanks to my parents - we did have a great deal of help getting it off the ground. Given that it is going to be an Indian wedding, there is literally twice as much work to do (and about four times as much fun to be had). We will, in effect, be having two weddings and two parties. Does this mean more presents than usual? I certainly hope so. And does this mean more clothes than usual? Absolutely. 

Over the next few months, I will be sharing what I hope will be a series of fun/dramatic/heart-felt/comedy pre-wedding stories...