Bride Blog

Here at Planning Your Wedding we are committed to introducing you to the highest quality suppliers of wedding services in your area. For extra support, wed also like to introduce you to other brides to see how they planned their special day.

 

So if you are a bride-to-be who would like to share your planning ideas and photos, then please start a bride blog with us or link us to your existing bride blog.

 

Alternatively, if youre already married why not re-live your special day (we know you want to!) and create a bride blog with your precious memories and photos to show others how it should be done!

 

To create a new bride blog please email us at blog@planningyourwedding.co.uk and we will help you get started.

 

 

Clare's wedding blog posts

Here Clare shares with you the run up to her big day:

Six weeks before
Today I was digging through my wedding folder looking for a receipt (The Groom is a diligent budgeter; I'm not, so I spend half my life hunting for misfiled receipts). I came across a piece of paper dated three days after he proposed. It's a list of what we expected from our wedding day.
My column was all: "Have my hair done specially by a hairdresser" and "Walk down the aisle to Mendelssohn NOT Wagner" and "Pretty shoes" (with three exclamation marks. And some hearts.)
There were three items on The Grooms column. "New suit" and "Give speech and say how lovely my wife is" And: "I am going to lift your veil and you are going to look beautiful" The veil! How could I have forgotten the veil? We'd talked about it but then I hadn't actually done anything about it.
I called my mother. Yes, the veil worn by her and my grandmother was waiting for me, safe in the camphor wood chest. And she'd been wondering when I would ask about it.
I'm so glad we made that list all those months ago. I moved it to the front of the folder. And added a few more hearts and exclamation marks.


Five weeks before
Why is The Bride standing in the kitchen with tears pouring down her face? The Groom is mystified. "Darling girl, whats the matter?"
I point to the radio, which is playing Vaughn Williams Linden Lea. "Oh," he says. "Thats on the music list, isnt it."
The wedding is going to be a tearful occasion for me. It'll be adrenalin and sadness and happiness all mixed into this great up-welling of emotion. At first, it seemed too awful to think about crying in front of all those people and messing up my vows. "You're going to be mainlining Rescue Remedy on the day," predicted my bridesmaid gloomily.
But now, with a month to go, I can accept I will stumble over my vows, and that mascara isnt going to work for me ("Oh, dont you worry about that," said my beautician. "I can tint your eyelashes for you.")
More than mascara, it's about honesty. Honesty is one of the values that underpins a marriage, and if I try to stop myself from feeling what I'm feeling while we're actually making our marriage, what does that say about my intentions?
And all those people watching: they're fond of us, and they're not going to mock anyone's tears.


Four weeks before
I got the call yesterday. The dress is done. "Come at ten," says the dressmaker.
I hurry over to her house with the padded hanger I've been saving for this, and a dress bag. I cant stop grinning.
The dress is hanging in her living room. "Try it on?' I'm so excited that I'm undressing before she's even shut the curtains. I'm wearing my wedding undies for the very first time.
I drop the dress over my head. It rustles and swooshes. She zips it up and it fits perfectly. I pick up the hem and admire the tiny stitches. "All by hand," she says. "It's a beautiful dress. And lovely fabric. You made a good choice."
I hand over the wad of notes, and we count them.
"Thank you. Make sure you send me a photograph. I want to see how it looks on the day."
I walk back through town, clasping my dress bag. Im still smiling. I want to tell complete strangers: "I've got my wedding dress right here and I'm getting married."


Three weeks before
I found my shoes today. I was on my way to a networking event, and I took a short cut through the shopping centre. I was early, so I grabbed the opportunity to check out a few shops. And there they were: my wedding shoes in our wedding colours, and well under budget.
At the meeting, I tucked my shopping bag under the table. The format was a show and tell: one guy had just finished a new iPhone app; someone talked about the best format for business cards; another had some stunning photos on his laptop. "Anyone else?"
The shoe box pressed against my knee, and I wanted to pipe up: "My shoes. Ive got my wedding shoes. Look at my beautiful wedding shoes, everyone. Look." But I didnt, because I was afraid of being referred to as "The Shoe Woman" for the rest of my life.


Two weeks before
On the day we meet the photographer, the sky and the air are clear after a wet night.
She insisted on meeting us at 1pm, the time of the wedding. "I want to see where the suns going to be."
We walk round the back to the garden, and are surprised by the autumn colours – we've only seen the venue by night because we hadn't much thought about outdoor pictures. I just assumed, with it being a winter wedding, that it would pour with rain and get dark in the middle of the afternoon. The photographer smiles. "We might have some of these leaves left."
She has thought of at least a dozen things that never occurred to me: "Have you got a pair of flat shoes for crossing the lawn? And what about a pretty umbrella?"
It's been the same with all the other suppliers: each one had their own tips. The florist tactfully directed me away from a difficult colour choice. The hairdresser helped us to timetable the morning. As the Groom says, "It;s amazing how much more confident you feel when you've got someone who's done it all before holding your hand."

 

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