And the bride wore green


I spent the weekend going through withdrawals. Netflix is my dealer and she cut me off on Season 6, episode 2 of Shameless. Debbie had just gotten pregnant and Frank was caught masterbating on the grave of his deceased lover and I was left hanging. Getting jittery, I stumbled across Chelsea Handler’s documentary series. I love Chelsea, so much so that Chuy is named after her little person Mexican personal assistant Chuy Bravo.

In one of the episodes she explores trying on bridal gowns and I was dead-set delighted when the bridal gown assistant told Chelsea about the amount of brides that wore boots under their wedding dress.


We got engaged on the 25th October 2001 while we were making our bed in our then terrace house. It was not at all romantic.

As we had had an 8 year courtship at that stage, we didn’t think a long engagement would be, I dunno…. able. So we whacked together that little shin dig in 4 months.

My dress? To be honest I didn’t give a fat rats. Speaking of fat, I think I was the only betrothed how stacked on the lard like a woman possessed. If it wasn’t nailed down, I ate it. And then I got to wear it, on my ever-increasing girth.

Speaking of wearing, the wedding dress. Holy sweet mother of mother fucking drama! To be honest, I didn’t give two hoots but my army of bridesmaids (NEVER EVER GET DRUNK THE NIGHT YOU GET ENGAGED AND ANNOUNCE TO THE ENTIRE GATHERING THAT YOU CAN ALL BE MY BRIDESMAIDS BUT I AM GLAD I DID) certainly did. Thank goodness, or else I would have gotten married in jeans. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Enter the debacle that was Cash Palace, a dressmaking establishment who at the time, was situated on Oxford street in Paddington. Three weeks out from the wedding, the proprietor decided she was too busy and called me, leaving me a message that she was not going to make my wedding dress. Her name was Elaine. Cue immense drama. I think it was perhaps that I had gotten so fat that the profit margin of said gown had diminished somewhat.

Anyway, in a story for another day a dress was made. A green dress. Because I am a traditional gal. And under that mammoth green dress was a pair of black RM Williams boots. Because I favour comfort over appearances. And I still do.

What did you wear to your wedding?

Were you traditional? Or slightly feral?

This post is dedicated to Neil and Lori, who tied to knot on the weekend. Happily ever after xx