Vera Wan*, more like

I have a wedding dress! Or at least, I have chosen a wedding dress. Turns out you can't just walk into a shop and buy one, as with normal dresses. You must choose one first and then they make it for you. I like to think of "they" as a team of happy singing mice, like the ones in Cinderella.


However, I think we all know the likely reality.


Anyway, the important thing is I have a wedding dress. And it's not horrible, despite the best efforts of the lady in the wedding dress shop in Sydenham. Yes, Sydenham. "I am no snob," I said to myself. "The wedding dress shop in Sydenham is sure to be good enough for me. Why should it be any different to other wedding dress shops just because it is in South East London?" Because it is in South East London, I should have answered myself.

The lady in the wedding dress shop was very nice, and I cannot fault her in terms of cheerful demeanour. However, I think my vision of my wedding dress (stylish, sophisticated, understated yet impactful) clashed with hers (what would happen if the Emmanuels, Jackie Onassis and Anne Summers got drunk near a sewing machine).


The lady brought me dress after dress, and forced me to try them on even when I said things like, "Hmm, I'm just not sure about the giant crystal bow, especially what with all the lilac netting." I had to stand on a podium in the middle of the shop so Alice and my Mum could look at me and try not to cry. Mainly with laughter.

At one point I agreed to try on a necklace. The lady came back with a tiara, which she jammed onto my head as though experimenting with a glamorous new method of trepanning. I looked at myself in the mirror, on the podium, and gave a little wave. I can't think what it all reminded me of.


"I think I ought to go away and have a think about things," I told the lady.

"Just so you know, you can buy this sample dress if you like," she said. "It's much cheaper. Only £450."

"Um," said Alice, "I'm not sure it quite fits."

"Well," said the lady, jamming two fingers into the bodice and halfway through my spine, "She'll just have to lose weight, won't she?"

We made our excuses and left.

So I didn't end up buying my wedding dress in Sydenham. I bought it somewhere else, but I'm not going to reveal where or what it's like in case Pete is reading this. Here's a hint, though; imagine what this dress might look like on the other side of the pond...

Now I just have two more dresses to find!

Chasing Eric

Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I've just been so busy. It's a real struggle trying to fit work in around my wedding commitments, let alone this blog!

I still haven't heard back from Sailor Jerry, OK!, Hello or Eric Szmanda. I am very disappointed. At this rate I am going to have to lower my expectations and go for Aftershock, Take A Break and Trevor Eve instead.

I'm not ready to give up yet though, so I've sent another email to Eric Szmanda's agent. Fingers crossed!

Subject: Re: Szmanda
To: info@bwr-la.com
From: ellie@*********.net
Date: 18/02/10

Hello again,

I have still not received a reply from you re: Eric Szmanda attending my wedding on his birthday. Perhaps Eric Szmanda needs further incentive before he is willing to commit?

If so, how about we promise him a more significant role in the wedding? The groom has technically chosen a best man but I'm sure he would be willing to step down - after all, this is Eric Szmanda we are talking about!

Alternatively we are willing to offer Eric Szmanda a fee for attending, providing he reprises his role as Level 3 CSI Greg Sanders. I quite like the idea of him "dusting for prints" during the ceremony, taking DNA samples from guests, using the little torch and orange sunglasses to check for blood and semen etc. Could be quite fun I think?

Anyway, must press on - there's so much to organise before the big day that frankly right now, Eric Szmanda is the least of my worries!

Best regards,

Ellie

Another task ticked off the To Do list

Subject: Bidding war
From: ellie@*********.net
To: contact@hellomagazine.com; contact@express.co.uk
Date: 14/01/10

Dear Hello / OK magazine (delete as applicable),

I am getting married on Saturday 24th July. Not long I know, so I would like to open the bidding war for the photos. Please can you advise re: first steps to getting this kicked off?

Yours sincerely,

Ellie

Poetry Corner

Brammers informs me he is working on a special celebratory poem to mark the occasion of my wedding. This is great news. For some time now I have considered appointing a biographical poet laureate to cover significant events in my life. With his extensive specialist knowledge of videogames journalism and the WWE (1995 - 1997), Brammers could be the ideal candidate.

He writes: "Here is the first draft of the celebratory poem. Please bear in mind that I have struggled to find the right poetic "vehicle" to express the many emotions I am simultaneously feeling whenever I think about your wedding.

VERSE 1 (TBC):

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Ellie's getting married
It's her special f***ing day

"To give you an idea of how I am approaching this, I have also included a few aspirational images from my "mood wall" that have assisted in the creative process."

He's definitely in the running for the post.

A new idea

Subject: Wedding sponsorship

From: ellie@*********.net

Date: 08/01/10 13:28

To: Sailor Jerry contact form

Dear makers of Sailor Jerry,

I am a big fan of your delicious rum. I particularly enjoy the subtle hint of vanilla, the delicate undertone of lime and the way it tastes like Dr Pepper with four extra spoons of sugar in. Well done everyone.

Following my extensive research on wikipedia, I understand Sailor Jerry is based on recipes handed down by ocean-going sailors who had access to the finest spices from the furthest corners of Asia and the Far East. I like to reflect on this and imagine their exotic adventures while enjoying some Sailor Jerry down at my local Wetherspoons in Forest Hill, South East London.

Which is where I was last night, in fact, drinking Sailor Jerry with my fiance and friends while discussing plans for our forthcoming wedding. That's when we came up with the idea.

We are holding our wedding reception in an unlicenced venue and are supplying all the alcohol ourselves. As Sailor Jerry is our favourite drink, and hugely popular with all our friends (except Oli, but he's half Swiss), we would love to offer it to our guests.

Unfortunately, our budget for the wedding is extremely low. I know Sailor Jerry is only £1.50 in Wetherspoons (with mixer) but there will be over 100 people at the wedding, so I calculate a potential Sailor Jerry's bill of over £5000. Not to mention the transport costs involved with transferring all those glasses from the Wetherspoons to the reception (I did ask if we could have the reception there but apparently they don't allow dry ice).

So... What if Sailor Jerry was to sponsor our wedding? In exchange for some of your delicious elixir we'd be happy to let you decorate the venue with Sailor Jerry merchandise - beer mats, t-shirts, life-size inflatable models of Sailor Jerry himself etc. We could print a tagline of your choice and URL on the wedding invites, and we'd be sure to say a big thanks to Sailor Jerry in all the wedding speeches (there are likely to be at least 14). There are plenty of other options we could discuss e.g. dressing the ushers up as sailors, bridesmaids as dockside wenches, tattoos etc. What do you think?

Best regards, and thanks again for making such a lovely drink,

Ellie

PS I don't know whether this helps, but CSI: Las Vegas star Eric Szmanda will be at the wedding (TBC).

You say tomato, I say foie gras filo parcels with a pomegranate jus

Being engaged has taken my relationship with Pete to a new level. Never have we been so together and connected. Since the process of planning the wedding began we have felt inextricably bound, as though strapped to a runaway rollercoaster that screams relentlessly and inevitably through a terrifying endless void, having paid £15,000,000 to get into the theme park.

That's not to say there hasn't been the odd ruction, of course. Here are a few of the things we have argued about so far: Food. Drink. Vows. Music. Transport. Whether wearing a black suit, white shirt and thin black tie is indeed "cool", or in fact "Far too nineties. Who am I marrying, Mr f***ing Orange?"

Whether 36 sombreros is too many or not enough. Whether there should be a raffle. Whether we should buy a reasonable amount of alcohol or far too much, with a view to there being leftovers for after the wedding (thanks to Mr Miller for providing the argument-winning line, "It's not like you're buying bloody hummus.").

Whether the statement "I know this guy who's going to do the bar / flowers / photographs / DJing / food" should be taken literally, or whether the listener should psychically interpret it to actually mean, "I know this guy who once told me, in a pub, in 2006, while drunk, that his sister's workmate's cousin once worked in a bar / did work experience at a florists / has quite a good digital camera / knows how to work iTunes / tried to set up a catering business but failed."

Still. Dr Phil says, "If approached properly, arguing can actually help the relationship by instilling the sense of peace and trust that comes from knowing you can release feelings without being abandoned or humiliated," as I reminded Pete after I locked him out of the flat in his Speedos.

A light bulb moment

Saw Barnes at the weekend. He's given me the most fantastic idea.

Two words: "Dry ice."

YES.