Highlights

1. The Walk

One of the most important moments for the maid of the bride is the walk down the aisle. At the rehearsal the photographer and celebrant both berated me for walking too fast when it was my turn. So that was something to concentrate on.

Then on the day, when not wearing my sneakers this time, I realised the hazard of walking down a grassy aisle between two grapevines. My stilettos sunk pretty much all the way into the dirt. Sarah had advised beforehand that I needed to walk on my toes to avoid sinking in. There were also huge cracks in the paving stones once you reached the court-yard, which I had to make my way across somehow. The whole time I was repeating a mantra to myself of, 'Walk on your toes. Not too fast. Avoid the cracks. Smile.' I'm sure I looked elegant and relaxed....

I had romantic visions of losing a shoe Cinderella style, but it didn't happen.

By the end of the ceremony I really was wondering why Sarah had picked me for such an elegant ocassion... did she not remember what I was like???



(The picture is a self portrait done in the bathroom to try and capture the glory of The Silver - my aim was not great.)

2. The Signing
Pretty much the only other thing I had to do was sign the wedding certificate. It was sitting on a little table, with three lit candles in front of it, two of them tapered. As I went to sit down I somehow hit one of the tapered ones (which were fairly unsteady looking anyhow) and it started falling towards my face. I think I caught it just as the flame danced upon my chin.

I propped it back up and wondered if it would have been a bad omen if I'd extinguished the flame of Sarah's family..... Then the celebrant came and started wiping at my chin, saying there was actually something there. So I had candle-ash on my chin.

I was then so flustered that I may have spelt some of the details on the certificate wrong (my street address...). There is a lot to write! And everybody is just sitting there watching and you get through it all and the celebrant tells you to write it all again on the second copy!

I was very close to almost burning the certificate or perhaps lighting my hairspray filled hair into a fire ball. Close escape....

3. The Wine
Sarah had recommended the pinot noir, which was $90 a bottle. I had a glass of that and kept thinking that it was odd I'd only had one sip.... then realised that the waiters were refilling it every time they came past. That's a worry.

The crowd was an odd combination of Germans, who seemed to stick together and liked speaking German and drinking.... and the kiwis, who were quite reserved. Hard to mingle in.

Once the dancing started I felt it my obligation to represent NZ on the floor. At first it was just Germans up there. So I downed a few more quick wines and got up. As conspicuous as I felt, in my shiny bottom-highlighting dress, I stayed dancing until the bitter end. I know that couples feel bad if they've hired a DJ and picked music and it's not utilised with dancing. Afraid the open bar was running out, I had a couple more glasses of wine.

By midnight I may have been starting to get tipsy. Maybe. It was just me and the Germans and I began 'speaking German'. It may have been just broken English with a thick German accent, but I felt it had to be done. Apparently I kept it up for quite some time. Me and the best man went back to our villa and the bride's parents and the brides and groom were still up having cups of tea. They evidently found me quite amusing and requested repeats of my stunning German the next day.

Meanwhile there was some lovely German boy I was supposed to meet, talk to, fall in love with and marry. I think I talked to him at the bar for five minutes when I was already on the way to my tipsy state. He seemed nice enough, but he didn't propose or anything.

4. The Bath

The villa was incredibly over the top and luxurious. It was like a mini Elton John mansion. Every room had a Chandler and every couch had 20 cushions. One of the bathrooms had a bath with mirrors on three sides of it. I had to try it.

I could not think of anything less appealing than standing up dripping wet and seeing naked Kates to infinity, but it provided me with a morbid fascination.

The post-wedding morning the mother of the bride offered me the use of ensuite with the mirrors. I had to take the opportunity. My ensuite only had a shower. A nice shower, albeit, but it had no porn-star mirrors.

It was surprisingly tasteful. Once you were sitting in the bath, you could only really see the top of your torso. I could have taken some very tasteful soft-porn of myself (had I not misplaced my camera in my drunken state). And by the time I stood up at the end, the mirrors had all fogged up.

In my wardrobe there was a big fluffy robe and slippers. I wore the slippers for most of the two days I was there. It may have looked odd, especially at the brunch the next day... but it had to be done. It was my Hugh Heffner touch.

PS - While I think the bride realised The Silver Dress was not my best look ever, there was no conversation about its ill-fitting-ness. It went unsaid. She was so on edge enough that I said I loved everything - and I mainly did. The Bride does not read my blog (hence I can be more candid here) but she does read my facebook (hence there is no mention of my trepidation towards the dress on there).

I'm not insulting her taste, as such. She is an incredibly stylish person. More so than myself. The dress itself would look stunning on a really thin person. The fact that she thought it would look good on me might really be a compliment to me.... and she did, in the end, let me wear my own shoes! (After I showed her a picture of them and they were deemed acceptable. Phew.)

A few people made some generic comments about me looking lovely, but a more common question was, 'So, did you get the dress or did the bride get it in London?' to which I would wholeheartedly say, 'Oh - she got it. In London.' That would satisfy their curiosity and I sensed sympathy at that point.