Not that wedding … part 2
As you might know from last week’s blog, the world was in Windsor at the weekend but I was in Blackpool, attending a rather less royal wedding, though one still packed with glamour.
The bride dazzled, the groom waited for her even though she was late (she was half way to the church and realised she’d forgotten her bouquet!), the sun shone, the canapés rocked. And I did wear those shoes (and that hat).
I wonder if the celebrities back in Windsor felt as I did, though, and secretly wished they were in their jeans and flip flops? (Does Posh own any flip flops?). I couldn’t see much thanks to the feathers on the hat (now I have an idea how a chicken feels) and the shoes were changed in the reception car park for a pair less glamorous but massively more comfortable. Still, for an hour I felt the part. And thankfully in this wedding, I wasn’t forced to sit on an uncomfortable folding chair in the church. Not was the vicar quite so … verbose as the wonderful Reverend Michael Curry.
