The day of Wedding Part III dawned more obscenely bright and blue-skied than Wedding Part I and II put together. After bacon and eggs and Sunday papers we slowly got organised. Here’s Gareth ironing his shirt. He was continually amazed by these marvellous things Australians have called LAUNDRIES. A whole separate room, just for the washing machine. In Britain this room would be sub-divided into three studio apartments.
Note indoor use of sunnies and hat.
Clearly not coping with Australian climate.
I only needed about ten minutes to get ready as it was the third wedding and I finally had the routine down pat. Hair, make-up, squishy undies. And I’d lost enough blubber since the previous wedding that I could now breathe in the frock unassisted and zip it up all by myself! Previously it took two strong men and a tub of margarine.
The day gets pretty blurry after that. We arrived at the cafe for the party and it was hot hot hot. I had totally forgotten the sensation of sun crawling over skin. It made me feel rather light-headed and nervy. My friends started to arrive and all I can remember is talking a lot of shit. I was so anxious that people would have a nice time, find the food and the punch bowl; be able to understand Gareth’s accent and vice versa. I cannot recall a single thing I said all afternoon. I just remember floating around, kissing people hello, thinking how foxy my pals looked and how strange it was to see Gareth wearing sunglasses.
We conducted a mock wedding ceremony just to give things a sense of occasion. Kind of like those dramatic reconstructions on Australia’s Most Wanted. Jenny was my bridesmaid, Belinda was Gareth’s Best Girl and the amazing Mattay became The Good Reverend. Jenny led the way down the “aisle” and spontaneously bellowed the Wedding March, “DUN DUN DUN-DUUUUN!”. This caused me to cackle and forget all about my vow to Act Cool And Classy so I wouldn’t look demented in the wedding photos. Bugger.
I had just recovered my dignity when Matt welcomed everyone to the Wedding and pulled out a priest collar from his pocket and plopped it over his head. I had no idea where he got that from; it was genius.
I’d knocked up a script the night before, it was all very fluffy and tame so as not to alarm the elderly guests. I may as well cut and paste:
WEDDING CEREMONY THINGO
RM — Reverend Matt
MS — Mothership
S — Shauna
G — Gareth
RM: We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Shauna and Gareth. Marriage is a sacred institution, one that is not to be entered into lightly. Therefore, since today is Shauna and Gareth’s fourth wedding this year, we can all be safe in the knowledge that they are pretty serious about it by now. So, who takes this woman away from this man, and then gives her away again?
MS: I do.
RM: Thank you Shazza. Now if the bride and groom could join hands, we can begin the vows.
[S & G join hands]
RM: [Turns to G] Gareth David, do you promise to keep on loving Shauna, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer; even though she always leaves bits of food on the plates when she does the dishes?
G: I do.
RM: Excellent. [Turns to S] Shauna Lee, do you promise to keep on loving Gareth, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer; even though you still can’t always understand his Scottish accent?
S: I do.
RM: Do we have the wedding rings?
[J hands ring to S, B hands ring to G]
RM: Gareth, please take your wife’s hand and repeat after me. With this ring, I re-wed.
G: With this ring, I re-wed.
[G puts ring on S’s finger]
RM: Shauna, take that Scotsman by the hand and repeat after me. With this ring, I re-wed.
S: With this ring, I re-wed.
[And vice versa]
RM: I now pronounce you, once again, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!
CROWD GOES WILD. THE END.
And then there was mingling. Captured here is a moment of confusion with my Auntie remarking how she never knew I had a friend who was a man of the cloth, and me explaining how Reverend Matt was not a real Reverend.
(Photos by the famous JinkyArt. They specialise in photographing kids, but kindly agreed to snap our party. We’re good at acting immature anyway. I implore you, if you don’t have children you should go out and GET SOME, just so Barb can take photographs of them.)
So I hope everyone had a good time. I mostly remember The Mothership’s laughter bouncing off the walls. She has a great bunch of mates and they’re always up for a good time. I know I sent out the dorky Thank You cards long ago, but thanks everyone for coming along. And thanks to everyone far and wide who were so tops during the whole wedding process; I wish we could have invited youse all.
Right now here in Scotland it’s turned dark and chilly and everyone seems so far away. It’s a year ago on Monday, see. I’ve gone all mushy and pathetic. Let’s get on to the most important bit… THE CAKE!
You may recall The Mothership’s request for a thistle to plonk atop the cake alongside a sprig of wattle, so to represent Oz and Scotland. This sparked alarmed emails from readers who thought I’d try and smuggle a plant past Australia’s notoriously strict customs officials. But I found a nice fake one. Unfortunately all the local wattle had died off so we used some other native fluff. The cake did look a treat. This may be the only photo from the day in which I am not grinning or gurning like a moron, because I was hypnotised by this vision of chocolately goodness.