Pollyism of the week

Ihad no idea that a pistachio was anything more than a nut that is a bit of a pain in the butt to open. Oh, it’s way more than that. It’s the wedding dress colour dujour. Wow! Who ever thought you’d be walking down the aisle in a shade of nut?

I’m not planning a wedding, but I like to look at pictures of what people are doing, planning and plotting. When I got married, it was kind of a giant party with several hundred people. Lots of booze and food, smoking cigarettes (I know, don’t judge) while giving my wedding speech – and receiving 10 silver candelabras. Why anyone thought either Grant or I were silver candleholder folk, I’m not sure.

It seems that these days, brides plan for up to two years and it’s a very serious part-time job for any decent potential bride worth her weight in canapés.

I attended a wedding about a year ago that was as fancy as the Governor’s Ball after a presidential election. I may have been the only woman there not in Louboutin or Jimmy Choo heels, and this was the wedding of a normal Kiwi couple with a three-bedroom house and a crippling mortgage. I’m not sure if they had a Givealittle page to pay for the 20-layer cake or someone knew a baker. In all honesty, I spent more time looking at the candy table and instant photo wall than I did looking at the bride.

I can’t ever get remarried. I don’t like meetings, I’m terrible at planning and I loathe hosting parties, having photos that are not taken by the very kind Woman’sDay photographers or wearing any colour paler than forest green. I’d be a hopeless bride.

I do rather like what’s in vogue now to have simple flowers, one-stem bouquets and grazing platters. The absolute joy I felt when I first heard about grazing platters. I find standing in line at a buffet a little humiliating. It’s generally because I feel like people will judge the size of my portions (I always get way too many potatoes) and I always seem to be at the last table to line up, which makes me panic that all the ham will be gone.

Then I end up taking 10 times more ham than I need and looking like a dressedup, high-heeled carnivore. So the grazing platter means someone else piles way too much food on to giant plates and puts them on your table so you don’t have to worry about Uncle Mike eating all the ham before you can stuff it into your handbag.

Weddings are events now and I was bad at them before they even became events. These days, I’d probably be lucky to make it to my own without having a massive meltdown and taking off on honeymoon the night before. At least it’s great to know that a “whisper of green” will be the big colour next year and if I’m lucky, black will eventually be the colour all brides choose. And that, my friends, will be the year I get married again!