... I prefer to keep simchas personal

IT WAS mid-morning on the day after my return from a 10-month gap year, and I was on the plush carpet of a bridal-wear shop, the assistant wielding a measuring tape and a worried look. In less than 12 hours, I’d gone from flip-flops and patterned trousers to high heels and a full-length evening dress. With just a few weeks until my older sister’s wedding, I had to go from backpacker to bridesmaid, pronto.

Not that I minded. Having spent my childhood envying friends with regular gigs as bridesmaids and flower girls, I was delighted when, at 19, I finally landed the part.

As the third of four sisters, it was perhaps predictable that I would one day don a posh frock, emerge from a cloud of hairspray, and walk down the aisle in front of a blush- ing bride. As things stand, I’m now something of a veteran; I’ve bridesmaided twice for sisters and once for my sister-in-law. On top of that, I’ve planned four other hen parties and a couple of celebrations. In other words, I know my way around a chupah.

So when I heard about “professional bridesmaid” Jen Glantz my first thought was that she must have a lot of energy. Because being a bridesmaid is hard work.

Obviously, it’s also incredibly special, especially when you’re close to both bride and groom. But from hen books and hairdos to navigating last-minute crises and directing guests from shul to simcha, there’s a lot to think about.

For any bridesmaid, tasks can run to capturing the Kodak moments to dealing with table-plan mess-ups and calming last-minute jitters. For the supporting cast at a Jewish do, it’s all that and more; making sure the right people are present for the

(and that everyone else is

I dressed the bride as a banana on Brighton beach”