The Matron of Honour Wore Army Boots
Jan. 3rd, 2003 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boodieI wrote this in 1999.. it's based on the truth, sort of 8-)
The Matron Of Honour Wore Army Boots
The bride wore a fake fur coat, an old piece of yellowed netting was her veil, to complete
the ensemble she wore a pair of old platform shoes,three sizes to big for her. The Groom
was resplendent in a old morning coat,grey of course, that reached down to his calves,
he couldnt be persuaded to be parted from his trackpants and runners, so the effect
was somewhat incongruous.
The Bridesmaids, in keeping with the tone of the happy couple wore an assortment of
clothes that St Vinnies would have torn up for rags, the chief bridesmaid wore an
old top hat, she had found it that morning in a box of old clothes and could not be
persuaded to give it up, even the tears of the Bride had no effect, and when the
Groom stole it, she just beat him up til he handed it back over, the top hat was
draped by another piece of veil, the bridesmaid reckoning that the Bride shouldn't
be the only one to be wearing a veil.
The second bridesmaid was decked out in an assortment of black items, goth apparantly
being the look for weddings now, or so I was told, her piece of resistance was an old
black feather boa, that she wrapped around her neck and then around her waist, even then
it still dragged a little on the floor, providing a happy hour or so for the cats who
chased her around the house.
The third bridesmaid wore pink, and lots of it, pink shoes, pink trousers, pink shirt
and to top it all off an old pink sunhat, the addition of pink lipstick and rouge added
the finishing touches to an ensemble that had to be seen to be believed.
The Matron of Honour, standing in for the Mother of The Bride, was almost normal in
comparison, however the old tupperware container on her head, in lieu of a hat was
in my opinion subtly wrong for the rest of the attire, the Matron of Honour wearing
army boots, combat trousers and camouflage shirt, but then again, I am only here to
chronicle, not critique.
The wedding venue itself was an inspired choice, the lush green vegetation, in some
places 6 feet high, did manage to obscure, for most of the ceremony, the clothes line,
upon which was draped sheets to form an impromptu tent for the wedding lunch.
The bride walked down the pathway to the strains of Britney Spears singing "Baby One
More Time" the Groom had to be herded down the path, apparantly suffering from a last
minute case of nerves, a few whacks around the head from the Chief Bridesmaid providing
the cure, the Priestess, taking one look at the "happy" couple burst into tears, it
turned out that the Groom had asked her first, and she turned him down, so he went
onto his second choice.
The Bride upon hearing this and in my opinon, totally justified, threw one of her
shoes at the Groom, and nearly decked him with a well aimed hit, confusion reigned
supreme for at least 10 minutes, with the wedding party dissolving into factions
and items of clothing were torn and voices were raised, the Groom started crying
and ran away, and had to be dragged from the Daisy bush, whence he had taken
refuge, by then of course, the Bride, the bridesmaids, the Matron of Honour and
the Priestess had all become firm friends again, so the Groom was told he HAD to
continue with the wedding ceremony, the Chief bridesmaid stood over him as he
affirmed his vows.
The wedding feast under the clothesline cum tent was a great sucess, once the ants
had been taken from the jam biscuits and someone got up from sitting on the cake,
the wedding party agreed that the whole day had been a total sucess, however they
did think that it was a bit poor that the Society Reporter and Photographer (that
was me) spent much of the wedding ceremony laughing her head off, and it was
obvious that the photos wouldn't turn out.
Then they debated on whether I was to be allowed back next week when it was
the Chief Bridesmaids turn to get married, they decided that as long as I
contributed ice cream and softdrink I would be allowed back, but that I was to
promise, cross my heart, that I wouldnt laugh, not even once.
(c) Denise Altoff 1999
The Matron Of Honour Wore Army Boots
The bride wore a fake fur coat, an old piece of yellowed netting was her veil, to complete
the ensemble she wore a pair of old platform shoes,three sizes to big for her. The Groom
was resplendent in a old morning coat,grey of course, that reached down to his calves,
he couldnt be persuaded to be parted from his trackpants and runners, so the effect
was somewhat incongruous.
The Bridesmaids, in keeping with the tone of the happy couple wore an assortment of
clothes that St Vinnies would have torn up for rags, the chief bridesmaid wore an
old top hat, she had found it that morning in a box of old clothes and could not be
persuaded to give it up, even the tears of the Bride had no effect, and when the
Groom stole it, she just beat him up til he handed it back over, the top hat was
draped by another piece of veil, the bridesmaid reckoning that the Bride shouldn't
be the only one to be wearing a veil.
The second bridesmaid was decked out in an assortment of black items, goth apparantly
being the look for weddings now, or so I was told, her piece of resistance was an old
black feather boa, that she wrapped around her neck and then around her waist, even then
it still dragged a little on the floor, providing a happy hour or so for the cats who
chased her around the house.
The third bridesmaid wore pink, and lots of it, pink shoes, pink trousers, pink shirt
and to top it all off an old pink sunhat, the addition of pink lipstick and rouge added
the finishing touches to an ensemble that had to be seen to be believed.
The Matron of Honour, standing in for the Mother of The Bride, was almost normal in
comparison, however the old tupperware container on her head, in lieu of a hat was
in my opinion subtly wrong for the rest of the attire, the Matron of Honour wearing
army boots, combat trousers and camouflage shirt, but then again, I am only here to
chronicle, not critique.
The wedding venue itself was an inspired choice, the lush green vegetation, in some
places 6 feet high, did manage to obscure, for most of the ceremony, the clothes line,
upon which was draped sheets to form an impromptu tent for the wedding lunch.
The bride walked down the pathway to the strains of Britney Spears singing "Baby One
More Time" the Groom had to be herded down the path, apparantly suffering from a last
minute case of nerves, a few whacks around the head from the Chief Bridesmaid providing
the cure, the Priestess, taking one look at the "happy" couple burst into tears, it
turned out that the Groom had asked her first, and she turned him down, so he went
onto his second choice.
The Bride upon hearing this and in my opinon, totally justified, threw one of her
shoes at the Groom, and nearly decked him with a well aimed hit, confusion reigned
supreme for at least 10 minutes, with the wedding party dissolving into factions
and items of clothing were torn and voices were raised, the Groom started crying
and ran away, and had to be dragged from the Daisy bush, whence he had taken
refuge, by then of course, the Bride, the bridesmaids, the Matron of Honour and
the Priestess had all become firm friends again, so the Groom was told he HAD to
continue with the wedding ceremony, the Chief bridesmaid stood over him as he
affirmed his vows.
The wedding feast under the clothesline cum tent was a great sucess, once the ants
had been taken from the jam biscuits and someone got up from sitting on the cake,
the wedding party agreed that the whole day had been a total sucess, however they
did think that it was a bit poor that the Society Reporter and Photographer (that
was me) spent much of the wedding ceremony laughing her head off, and it was
obvious that the photos wouldn't turn out.
Then they debated on whether I was to be allowed back next week when it was
the Chief Bridesmaids turn to get married, they decided that as long as I
contributed ice cream and softdrink I would be allowed back, but that I was to
promise, cross my heart, that I wouldnt laugh, not even once.
(c) Denise Altoff 1999
