Really, I’m getting married today. But technically/legally, we did it on Thursday.
I didn’t think it would mean that much, the legal bit. It’s just a formality, we didn’t get to make up our own vows, we only invited four people. But I was wrong. The ceremony was beautiful, and much more moving than I’d expected. These are the words that everyone says – they’ve been repeated and repeated and tweaked down the generations and as they stand, this is what my culture thinks about a certain type of love.
I’m happy we wrote our own ceremony. When I stand up and make my promises today, they’ll be mine, with no compromises made, and I’ll mean and have chosen every one. There’s something to be said for tradition. So –
Something Old
My grandmother’s engagement ring. A gold band with diamond chips and green stones (emeralds?) shaped like a cat’s eye. She gave it to me 15 years ago, and this is the first time I’ve worn it as a ring – it never used to fit. She would have loved Paul, and I think she’d be pleased about the person I grew up to be. I’m still creating, I’m still performing, and I finally learnt to love bright red lipstick.
Something New
Red shoes from Irregular Choice. I have wanted a pair of irregular Choice heels for about ten years and never bought them for myself, because they’re “too silly”. How ridiculous! As if that’s not the whole point.
Something Borrowed
Laura Mercier eyeshadow in Twinkle. My Mum, as a woman of the world who has her shit together, knows exactly what her favourite makeup is, and for eyeshadow, it’s Laura Mercier. This is the shade she uses for parties -a gentle neural shimmer. I steal it to go out to the pub every Chrstmas Eve.
Something Blue
Navy wrap cardigan from Boden. Boring, I know. I had been trying to source a vintagey faux-fur wrap, to keep me warm and make me look like a magic snow queen. But in the end I decided to wear a cardi instead. I wanted something I could wear to death, you know? The kind of thing I wear every day.
I’ve been a bit suspicious of the whole “bridal” thing. There seems to be a creepy fetishisation of appearance, and this weird idea that you’re going to suddenly freak it and scream at everyone at any moment. I don’t like the idea of a role taking precedent over my personality. I think that, whatever happens to me, I’m still me first and foremost. Just like I thought with names. I’m adding something to my life, to myself – not replacing it.
And anyway, navy matched Paul. That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?
