So, OK.

Honeymoons are weird things, yeah?

These days there aren’t too many of us chaste lasses that need that nesty time with the new husband to, let’s be honest, get down to business.

But am jumping ahead.

I haven’t said a word about the wedding.

It was the most fun I have ever had in my life. Yes, even better than the East 17 concert I went to at 15.

It started like a normal Saturday morning for The Mister and I, we got up (together! gasp!) and headed down the road to meet our normal Saturday morning breakfast posse in Leederville.

We didn’t really have anything to do until about noon, so it was a really casual morning. This is also called ‘reaping the benefits of culling the extra things you don’t really need’.

Everything was done, and if it wasn’t done by now, it wasn’t going to happen.

Anyway, we were meeting our ‘setting up crew’, aka my mum, brother and The Mister’s stepdad and uncle to help set things up – we had festoon lanterns to assemble and hang, flowers to arrange and centrepieces to, umm, piece together.

So I promptly left.

Not because I am innately lukewarm when it comes to helping, but I had a date with Mark. My hairdresser.

Now, today wasn’t exactly the day to start working on a new hairstyle that veered away too much from what we trialled a week earlier… but we live dangerously. It looked different to what we originally planned, but it was close enough, it was acceptably ‘formal rockstar’, but I would’ve liked it a bit more tortured. But I had nothing to worry about, it was great.

The worst thing was waiting for mum to pick me up from the hairdressers.

There I was standing in Chuck D’s, leggings, a zip-through tracky top (because all the mags say to wear a top you can zip off, rather that pullover your head and ruin your hair), and this amazing hairdo…. in the middle of the carpark of North Perth Plaza Coles.

She was late. I texted The Mister and found she not only had left her mobile at home, she was so engrossed in centrepieces she had forgotten to pick me up.

Anyway, after my poor frazzled mum picked me up, we headed back to the pub where all the action was taking place.

The reception area was looking better than I had ever imagined – white festoon lanterns covered the roof, eight tables of ten were covered with two white tablecloths (one as the flat, more functional tablecloth and the one on top being more of an overlay), various little bottles with little stems in them (yes, very cliché and on-trend), a candle, and a dinosaur.

*I’ll have a proper photo rundown of the reception room when I get them – I promise*

So the time came when everyone was about to leave the pub to get ready, but before that, The Mister and I had a light lunch that was basically just a small antipasto plate and a lemonade. There were a couple of ‘ermagherd, this is really happening’ moments, but I have to say, we were just humming along like normal and getting some last minute things straight as it was probably the last time we were going to talk directly for a few hours.

A funny thing though, when we ordered lunch, this was our conversation with the barkeep –

  • Barkeep: oh you’ll have to sit over there as there is a wedding being set up in the garden area
  • Us: Yeah, we know.
  • Barkeep: Oh cool, do you know the bride and groom?
  • Us (in unison): We are the bride and groom

He didn’t give us a discount but his blushed face was good enough for us. I don’t think he was used to seeing the bride and groom just hanging out mere hours before the wedding, but who does?

After lunch, I realised that everyone was leaving.

I didn’t want to be on my own. For no other reason than that I was a bit bored. Everything was done.

Then as everyone was heading off, a familiar face was walking in.

My gorgeous makeup artist, also named Pip, rocked up. I’ve only met her a handful of times but I hugged her and told her she wasn’t allowed to leave.

After just chatting for a half hour and thinking, bugger it, lets get a champers, we thought we’d better get started on the makeup.

Pip got the look of formal rockstar spot on. She even winged the ends of the eyeliner underneath my newly extended lashes.

Next thing I know, mum was back. She still looked frazzled, but gorgeous in a heavy, cream-coloured lace top and wide navy-coloured palazzo pants with cream spots. She said she was in such a rush that she hopped into the shower with her glasses on. Bless.

After mum got her makeup done, she said OK then, what now?

That’s when I piped up and said that I would like to get dressed.

We hadn’t undone the buttons, so there mum was getting all the 5 million buttons undone while I was standing almost naked except for undies and my torsolette, feeling very much like a shag on a rock.

Then there was a knock at the door.

‘Don’t come in!’ was the chorus from mum, Pip and I.

It was the photographer, Lee Griffith.

He was so calm and eager to simply get started, so as we hadn’t even talked about doing the ‘getting ready photos’, he just jumped right in and snapped away. He was great.

I made some lame joke that wasn’t it funny that there were two Pip’s in the room and two Lee’s. We all had a little laugh.

I remember it was only then that I got a wave of real nerves.

Thank God that my BFF kept sending me texts that were wonderfully distracting about some of our adventures when we lived in Kalgoorlie. It stopped me from getting to the point of nervy to panicked.

It’s funny what can happen that can’t be orchestrated.

It was a very overcast day (my favourite kind) and there was a bit of unsettledness in the air that wasn’t conjured up by my own mind.

That dressing room was very hot, I was wearing a pure silk dress, and hosiery that was also making me hot. So we opened the old sash window in the room and this glorious cool air came rushing in.

Then it rained.

It was an amazing moment and I was totally mesmerised by it, while everyone was fussing around.

Mum and Pip then head downstairs for the ceremony. It was just Lee the photographer and I. As he is so calm, I calmed down too.

As the rain subsided, another noise filled the hotbox of a dressing room.

The guests.

I could hear everyone. My aunty Steph laughing, my brother speaking animatedly. The music that The Mister and I had playlisted on the iPod was being played. It just made me want to get down there and see everyone.

After Lee had got what he needed to get, he hoofed it downstairs to get some crowd shots, so there I was, finally by myself.

I wasn’t walking down the aisle with my dad or mum or on my own, I was waiting for the song to start, ‘Into My Arms’ by Nick Cave.

Then it did.

It was on like Donkey Kong.

The song is a good four minutes. Enough time to confuse people.

Instead of the music piping up and me heading down the aisle, The Mister left the gathering of family and friends entirely.

He was coming to get me.

This way, it ensured we had one tiny private moment together, a pinky-promise and a last-minute ‘are you sure?’.

I was selfish though, people love looking back on the groom to see his reaction to the bride walking in. But I wanted it all to myself. And the photographer. No one experienced that moment but us. And the photographer.

PipBeau092 PipBeau122

Then we headed down the stairs together and out to our beautiful congregation.

I remember, vividly, turning into the main bar to get to the garden area and thinking ‘oh god, they’re all going to be looking at me’ and my eyes shot to the floor. I was so shy I could barely look anyone in the eye.

In this situation I would have my glasses off with no contacts – everything looking nice and fuzzy…. But this time I had contacts in and everything was so super clear.

The whole time of walking down that little brick aisle I was screaming in my head ‘arrrgh, look at him! Look at him!’

So anyway, after what seemed to be the world’s longest walk, we made it.

Then we had to wait until what seemed like the world’s longest song finished :/

At this point I remembered I had squirrelled away a little note for The Mister.  No one really noticed that I gave it to him just before the celebrant started to speak.

I know he appreciated the cheap laugh, which gives an indication on the content… but it’s a nice idea if you’re keen to replicate…

Anyway, this is how the ceremony went..

Friends and family welcome to this special occasion the day when thewrybride and The Mister take each other’s hands and begin their life together as husband and wife.

As two families are becoming one, thewrybride and The Mister encourage that you choose a place to sit or stand rather than choose a side.

The couple would also like to thank everyone for being here, especially those who have travelled from Melbourne, Broome, Bunbury and Kalgoorlie to be here.

While thewrybride and The Mister feel privileged to be able to celebrate their love through the deeply personal commitment of marriage, they also acknowledge that in this country a civil marriage is still not recognised as a civil right.

It was once said, that falling in love is like being first to discover the most beautiful thing in the world, to find something so lovely that no one else had even noticed.

Love starts in little ways. With a smile, a touch, or a glance across a swimming pool on Australia Day in Kalgoorlie.

You know that love is there, because suddenly you’re not alone.

  • Vows 

Before thewrybride and The Mister make their commitment to each other, they will play a best-of-three game of rock, paper, scissors to ascertain who goes first.

The Mister ended up winning the round – so he went first with his vows. Then it was my turn… this is what I said…


Over the past 5 years I have forgotten things you’ve said, things you’ve done – I have never forgotten the way you have made me feel

I vow to always try and be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

I vow to love you as you deserve to be loved: with admiration, adoration, passion, pragmatism and respect, and to treat you like the man that you are, even when you’re wearing spandex hot pants and a sailor hat.

You are my hot water bottle, my radioactive man, my enabler in trouble and my poster of bail.

I vow to be your rock, paper AND scissors

I love you because you make me happier than I ever knew was possible.

I’m marrying you today because I love you more than I have ever found a way to say.

Saying these things today are easy.

But I accept the challenge of living them day by day.

 I want the challenge.

 I want it with you.

  •  The exchange of rings 

The Mister: wrybride, take this ring as an announcement to the world that you have been found. I choose you. Wear it, knowing that I love you today, tomorrow, forever.

Thewrybride: Mister, we’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other girl

I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling

Gotta make you understand


Never gonna give you up,

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and desert you

Never gonna make you cry,

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

Yes. I rick-rolled him.

I rick-rolled him gooooooood.

So. It was done. Married. Well, after we signed the register and all that jazz…



My eldest brother was the MC for the night, so he herded everyone upstairs to the awaiting deliciousness, while we ducked out for 20 minutes to get some snaps done.

My face was already numb and hurting from all the smiling at this point, but it was totally hilarious, walking through the pub saying ‘excuse me, excuse me’ as we headed to outside and behind the pub where there were some nice urbany spots to have some uber-trendy photos taken.

Now, remember it had rained earlier and the sky was moody – this actually diffused the light nicely, but while Lee the photog and The Mister were loving it sick, I was getting worried about the big, thick, black clouds that were rolling in.

There was nowhere to hide if it suddenly started to pour – except if we all raced to our car, which we didn’t have the keys handy anyway… and the boys didn’t have makeup on, two cans of Taft in their hair, or a pair of 4-inch heels on (I don’t wear heels usually, unless they are a comfortable Cuban-style, so 4 inches might as well be 10).

Lets not forget the dress that weighed more than your average Portmans number.

While the clouds menaced, The Mister and I had to keep that photo pose momentum going, which meant making each other laugh – something we happen to be experts in doing.

So, what works for us?

Quotes from Family Guy and American Dad. Does it every time.

Then the spitting started.

Not us spitting, the spitting of rain

(geez, who do you think we are?)

I was dying for a champers (reason #1 on the pro list for having a bridesmaid, which I did not have) and the spitting was an optimum reason to head back inside, but the boys thought we could get a couple more in.

Which we did. And I’m so glad we did, we even found a rusted old staircase that we hadn’t seen with Lee the photog in the earlier casing out of the joint.

So we got a little spittle on us. It was all good.


The Mister and I finally headed inside after our speedy rain-dodging outdoor photo sesh and I couldn’t believe it – the cocktail part of the evening had already finished and people were already seated in the bloody reception room!

I felt like my birth plan was being thrown out the door.

As it turned out, we were later than expected and people just wanted to sit down. Fair enough. I mean, what are you going to do? Herd them all back out again?

My irritation lasted about 2 minutes. It was let go. I needed sustenance, I found a cold beef cheek tartlet and a very cold flute of bubbles.


Then I found another silverlining to everyone heading to dinner early – I managed to have a couple of drinks with The Mister on our own on the turn-of-the-century balcony before anyone really knew we were there.

We did some big-arm-flailing crazy dancing just to get it out of our system. No one saw that except a couple of our barkeeps. They approved.

We were then ‘announced’ and we walked into the reception area. The Grandma-meets-Jurassic-Park decorated room looked more amazing when filled with people and candlelight.

It really was our moment. And it sparkled.



The rules I broke while planning this wedding…

  • I got upset about the invitations
  • I deviated from the dress I truly, truly wanted (this is NO criticism of The Seamstress, I’m the one that got carried away and I think she knows this too)
  • I talked about the wedding A LOT on Facebook when I promised myself I wouldn’t.
  • I bucked the all-or-nothing rule of inviting work colleagues.
  • I let myself be manipulated.
  • I got contact lenses that I haven’t worn since.
  • I dipped into the wedding budget to pay for non-wedding things. Like ASOS.
  • I didn’t lose any weight or start any special beauty regime.
  • I originally wanted the wedding to be device-free, but ended up loving the idea of people being free to do what they liked on social media, we even had our own hashtag, #thewrywedding on Twitter.