Why I'm loving the wedding bliss

A HAPPY bridesmaid makes a happy bride, Tennyson said.

After waiting 24 years to be asked, I’ve found myself being called upon twice in the space of six months.

And if old Alfred is right, you won’t get a happier bride than my sister and my best friend.

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They say if you’re always the bridesmaid, you’re never the bride – but to be honest I’m willing to risk it. Because it’s all so exciting.

First off there’s the dress shopping – helping the bride-the-be choose the most important dress of her life, and then getting down to the important business of mine (just kidding girls!)

There’s no shop quite like a wedding dress boutique and the way that you’re treated inside – the bride as the princess that she will be on her special day.

And when you see your sister or your best friend (or whoever you are doing the honour for) in “the” dress for the first time, it’s so exciting that you don’t ever want them to take it off.

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It’s a good laugh too – trying on the biggest, puffiest, most meringue-like dress you can find and having a giggle imaging how on earth you’d manage to go to the toilet whilst wearing it!

Not so funny are the sizes – especially when it comes to your turn for trying on. Though this can raise a smile too when you’re trying to squeeze yourself in some glam glitzy affair and end up looking about as demure as Liz McDonald from Corrie ready for shift at The Rovers.

Despite assurances from the sales assistants that they’re smaller than average, you start making promises to yourself about how many pounds you’re going to lose before the wedding day - though I’ve got horrible visions of having to hold my breath all day because the dress is too tight!

Then there’s the Hen Do. Her last night of freedom – and you’re in control.

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I love nights out on the town – and let’s face it this is the ultimate night out - and I love organising and planning things even more.

A weekend in Prague? A few days in Spain? A fake fire engine filled with Asti Spumante and male strippers? Maybe not – but there is so much choice these days.

There’s whole websites dedicated to the tradition – offering ideas, advice and a host of novelty gifts to embarrass the soon-to-be-blushing bride.

The secret lies in getting the right balance between tack and class – so although the night might start dolled up in a posh bar drinking Vodka-Martinis, it will end with a Mr and Mrs Quiz – the answers gleaned from the groom in advance – with chocolate willies for prizes.

And then of course there’s the Big Day itself.

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I’m even excited about the getting ready – tedious tasks like hair, make-up and getting dressed will be transformed, as a team of stylists and make-up artists pamper and fuss while you sip on champagne, and then slip on the dress that you’ve waited the best part of a year to wear.

A ride in classic old car and then it’s time for the work to begin – the carrying of the train, perhaps a reading in the ceremony, and the all important signing of the register.

And I’m fully prepared to be at my brides’ beck and call throughout the day – covering all bases on the something old, new, borrowed and blue list, on hand with lip gloss and tissues for any quick make-up fixes required, joining them on the floor after they’ve endured a minute or so of that embarrassing first dance.

The thing is, if I’m this giddy about being bridesmaid – God help the man who proposes to me!

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