For the past three weeks my stint of voluntary work at the little local library has been on a Saturday afternoon. The library is next door to the Town Hall and at this time of year the mayor is very busy with weddings. A civil ceremony is compulsory in France, so I hope his deputies helped out yesterday since there were 16 ceremonies.
It’s very entertaining looking out of the library window at the different fashions worn by the guests and commenting on them with colleagues and other – mostly female – readers. It struck me yesterday how many of the female guests were wearing black. I thought that was not done at weddings. One colleague suggested that maybe some ladies only had one smart outfit, the LBD. There are also a few who wear white, which I thought was also not done. I remember the criticism when Princess Grace of Monaco turned up in white at the wedding of Princess Anne.
The most interesting wedding – at least as a spectator sport – took place a couple of weeks ago. Because the Town Hall is in the old town, whose streets were not designed for modern traffic, there are frequently problems with parking the bridal cars, especially if there is also a church service after the civil ceremony because the cathedral is close by. Perhaps because of this, scuffles broke out among the male guests, several ended up on the ground, the police piled in and various young men were led away in handcuffs and put in police vans. Must have spoiled the wedding atmosphere! What happened if everyone was wondering where the groom or best man had got to?
Boadicea's Chariot 
I expect times are hard!
The parking problem leaves one with wonderful visions of the wedding ceremony being mover to the jail PDQ!
There should be 24 hour weddings, that way one can find a bride, try her out and if she’s no good one can dump her the next day 🙂
Sheona, which country are you writing from?
Pseu –
I think the sentence that gives the clue is “A civil ceremony is compulsory in France”.
Sheona – sixteen wedding on one Saturday? No wonder there are traffic problems! I agree with you about the matter of black and white – but I notice when I attend weddings with My Chap that there are increasing numbers who wear one or the other. I am sufficiently old fashioned to think that neither is acceptable…..
Sheona – you’ve got it in one there re French fashions at weddings. I went to my sister in law’s wedding a couple of years ago, and frankly, among the two hundred odd guests, felt like some kind of circus run away, dressed in a bright green dress. It was not bought specially for the occasion -worn countless times before and since – but it was very conspicuous amid a sea of black, grey and silver dresses.
I said to my other half; ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!’ Then I did recall one tense moment a few months earlier when I was trying on a bright red dress – which was hardly strumpet material, but very red nonethess – which prompted him to say, ‘If you wear that to my sister’s wedding, she will kill you…’
Maybe I should have taken the hint!
So, the rule at French weddings, I think, is that all wimmin shalt dress sobrement, apart from the blushing bride…
“I was trying on a bright red dress ”
I came home late last night, and travelled on the tube on which there were both party goers and wedding returnees. One particular (obviously wedding) guest was wearing a superb red dress with white jacket – she had changed into red sandals, but had white (very) high heels in her bag. She looked absolutely great – you can keep your tasteful shades of black, white, grey and every shade in between: for me, a wedding is a celebration, and you should dress in a suitably festive manner!
Tee hee! It reminds me of weddings back in Liverpool, and you have to read the next bit in a Scouse accent:-
From the bride’s mother, “Oi, curtain, hair! Don’t you say nuthin’ about that gerl – that gerl’s my werld”, followed by an impassioned plea from the elderly uncle standing spreadeagled over a table in the corner, “Mind the ale, lads, mind the ale.”
OZ
Oh French weddings to scouse ones…!
The French one was all fairytale chateau – albeit a rather crumbling, paint cracked one, but noone noticed. They had champagne and canapes on lawn first – went on for ages, and frankly, I was gasping for a bloody cuppa decent tea. Then the meal; endless, with what seemed like an hour in between each course. Fab wine, which of course, I was hardly allowed to touch, having recently given birth, that being French etiquette on such matters…
We went back for an organised lunch/buffet for guests at same venue the following morning; some of the guests were still dancing from the night before!
As for scouse weddings – don’t get me started! Suffice to say, the rule is that all wimmin must wear more chiffon and brightly coloured material in headdress than in actual dress, they must also wear shoes as humanly high as possible, without ackshully resorting to stilt wearing; and everyone must drink as much cheap plonk in as little time as possible without succumbing to death. Oh, and obviously, as soon as the witching hour comes, and the Reds and Blues, and/or the Catholics and Proddies actually begin to interact, there is nearly always a punch up at some point… 🙂
I tend to dodge weddings, I find them particularly depressing knowing how many will end in divorce, much prefer a good funeral, no one I know has ever had two of them! Welsh funerals are the best bashes ever, serious piss ups and good food, no rubber chicken and cheap fruit cake!
Much cheaper on the soul and pocket book with weddings to send polite regrets and a decent present.
I have worn the same dress to all weddings for 15 years, including my own last time round, admittedly it is a very good Italian silk, but I see no need to keep buying outfits, its all the tale of the old iron pot anyway!
There is a new fashion for divorce parties here in the USA, never been to one as yet, rather think they could be jolly affairs, nearly as good as funerals.
A girl friend of mine in Llandeilo buried her horrid businessman father a year ago or so and told me on the phone about 600 people turned up to the church and wake. I said I was duly staggered that so many people had turned up, quick as a shot she said.
“Well then, they only came to make sure he really was dead, they all thought he was too mean to die and were delighted he had gone, he had so many enemies, they all came!”
Laughed till I cried and needed clean………
Claire – I like your style.
Christina – I like yours too.
OZ
I attended a scouse wedding back in the late 60s with Mrsoldmovie before we had pledged our trough, the reception was above a pub in Liverpool and just before her Dad passed out through heat exhaustion there was a punch up between the rat catchers and the prods, the priest tried to come between the warring factions and got a belt in the kisser for his troubles. Peace was only restored when someone started up on the squeeze box and the jigging and singing re started. Happy days.
OMG – Thanks for the only belly-laugh of the day.
OZ
Silly me.
CHristina; I’ve done that with green dress for last five years actually! Gets wheeled out for every wedding, although I daresay I might need new one. TRouble is, all fashions are for waistline under bust, which does rather give illusion of pregnancy, unless you walk around as stiff as a poker.
OMG: at the last good scouse punch up, I could see it coming hours before. The great great aunt of the bride (I think) was emotionally fraught to begin within – a mass of quivering faschia and feathers in church, which sort of slid down her head as she got progressively drunker throughout day, before she ended up punching her hapless husband by the buffet. Poor bloke!
Ouch!, I’ve never been punched in the buffets, sounds painful, did his eyes water?
squarepeg, there were one or two very nice and very bright red dresses around yesterday. You’re right – weddings are a celebration. I did suggest to the other librarian that perhaps the guests, being friends or relatives of the happy couple, knew more than we did and hence the black! She thought that was very funny.
claire, I don’t see what’s wrong with a green dress. It strikes me that the mother of the bride must be very restricted in her choice of outfit in France, which is very unfair. Often when we’re out, I’m asked why I’m not wearing tartan. Punch-ups at the reception are one thing. Punch-ups before are not to be recommended. That was a North African wedding and all the ladies were in those lovely full-length Moroccan gowns in a myriad of different colours.
OMG: We were watching from safe distance. COnversation went like this: ‘Oh my God, she hasn’t!’ ‘What?’ ‘Yep, she has!’
At another wedding, the brother of the bride, blues fan, kept making out as if he wanted to shake hands with reds fans, then pulling his hand away and sticking two fingers up in their faces… his wife was following him all night, saying ‘ew ei mussst apolegyse for mi uzbund…’
Sheona: I love my green dress! It’s all floaty and chiffony. But yes, at the French wedding, I swear the guests looked like a bunch of solicitors or something. It’s not done, apparently, to wear anything remotely likely to upstage the bride. Having said that, she had some weird maid of honour creature in a raggedy long white dress who was a dead ringer for bride of Frankenstein or Miss Havisham or summat. I could hardly keep face straight…
What a splendid blog!
Told you, weddings always far more grisly than funerals.
What marvellous stories!
You have just explained an incident seen from my mother’s balcony last week… a white stretch limo with black ribbons arrived on the promenade. Out popped a group of people all in black and white. Looked more like a minstrel show to us than a wedding party. The ‘bride’ wore black, the groom wore white, the bride’s maids were garbed in a combination of black and white, and the groom’s men were in black with white sun-glasses. Very strange, they had their photos taken on the beach and climbed back into the limo and drove off. I’m not usually superstitious, but I found the the black ribbons on the car oddly disturbing…
CO, you’re right. The stories here make your point. Stick to the funerals.
Boadicea, I expect it was all for effect, but I would have found the black ribbons disquieting too.
Yup Mrs Osborne,
Funerals every time. You don’t have to buy a present and you can guarantee there will be one less person at the bar. 🙂
No ferret, you end up having to send a cheque to a charity that you never would have supported in a million years! Something like the ‘faggots toenail clipping preservation society’ or that ilk!
Might as well send flowers!