I wore a floor length dark purple boho dress, little straps, and a darker purple shrug/short cardigan.
Mr Wench, DOES NOT DO DANCING. So, is unusual. He shuffled with me and then got his grove on. Was very pleased with him.
Hats, well, I feel if it is so big you are obstructing the view of three pews behind you then you sit at the back. I wore a flower thing in my hair.
Best Man's Speech, well, so often they are full of in jokes that the rest of the reception doesn't get. But he struck a nice note between the personal, the graphic, and the entertaining.
I vomited, in the porta loos and then when I got home and then a few times on Sunday.
See above for reasons I now dislike minifish and chips.
I wept because the Bride's parents were friends of my parents. My Dad isn't about anymore and so giving away and Father of the Bride speeches make me weep. Then wept again on the dance floor when Father of the Bride tried to slur at me how much he misses my Dad and how proud he would of me.
That do you? Or are there more points that need clearing up.
Oh, minature blinis! Very good thing, tasty!