12 July - Etiquette & Boats

Pretty wedding in pretty church in sunny village in Sussex.

I have gaged it right, sort of second wedding for both with children on each side and grown ups so no chance of anyone going overboard with outfits and mine is just right (Ghost dress, Bluemarine cardi, nice heels and vintage sparkly small bag, pearls) when I begin to spot the underdressed. Some men appear not to own a jacket .. and it’s not that hot. Then again the groom is rock n roll style in open neck white shirt no tie. Had met him once previously and found him very handsome and had instantly earmarked him for display to a few girlfriends (not able to offer myself as friend of Toph) only to find out he’d just started dating today’s bride. Wife is ex wife of famous comedian said to have led even Courtney Love astray… She’s altogether more wholesome in slinky red silk. (teaches yoga amongst other things) and has decided nothing can be done re the old bitten nails. Maybe you can’t do repair falsies or maybe she wants to keep it real. Then I see the young man in bleached and somewhat ripped jeans and the woman in a prom dress. Well, there is dancing later. But for now she should cover her shoulders with a shawl. I know most people have no idea of the dress code in a church but there is one, should they bother to just ask. But at some point this woman comes in with a Fitness First rucksack and flip flops. The outrage! Maybe she’s camping. I also have to remind a friend of my BF, the only other person here I’ve met before apart from the groom, that whilst in church you remove your hat. A straw one from TK Maxx he informs me. Since when do hetero men talk about where they bought stuff? Am too far away in my pew from the man in a flatcap to tell him to remove it.

Straw hat man is the closest I’ve ever met to a Hobbit. He’s shorter than me almost (and I’m Kylie in case I hadn’t mentioned) and has a ruddy hirsute ginger blonde head and beard. He’s Welsh and he’s funny and not shy to hit on anyone, which accounts for the 4 kids with 4 different women one of whom Is a tall Russian ballerina. I can’t quite imaging the couple but hey. Well, it could just be carelesness on both sides.. The BF says ‘Watch him, he’ll have a shag sorted out for later in no time’.

I’ll skip boring you with the lunch. We’re on the table with the single mothers and the singles (the 3 women are all yoga teachers, one is ex tv commissioning editor who found it too cut throat of course). Well, we can converse yoga so all goes well Shame the only interesting guest at our table, Mr Don Letts, failed to turn up. He would have made them all happier that Toph who’s friendly and earnest but clearly attached to moi.

After the lunch by the river, there are boats for rent available to the guests. I decide against a trip and just sit and watch them come and go. We didn’t see Hobbit leave but he’s predictably the last boat to return. And yes, it’s him and …4 women. One is a teenager. Dear god! But, wait. They are all in their knickers and pants and have wet hair, of course, they jumped in! His thin froggy legs are a sight but they seem happy, he’s ecstatic in fact. The two older women parade around in their underwear and a shawl in one case but she keeps it on her shoulders, not wrapped sarong style oh no. Why do that when you can be naked at a wedding reception? Maybe this is what Kate Moss and her primrose hill friends would do?

A little later I come across them indoors at the bar. Still undressed. I naturally exclaim ‘Oh, you’re still naked!’ and the younger, blonde, says ‘Am waiting for my underwear to dry off’. I reply ‘Well you could put your dress back on (she’s clutching it) and take your knickers off to dry them, in fact you could hang them on a chair’. But she’s on the Baileys and pays me no attention. I must look like old Auntie Edwina to her rock n roll dirty blonde loucheness. A little later they’re outside, Hobbit is hovering but they’re too busy being new bezzie mates and talking about Ibiza. I see the dynamic now, the older one is well ugly and .. older, but by making friend with dirty blonde who’s a bit more of a babe, new potential avenues of fun could open up for her. Ah well, one more to chalk up to my list of drunken yoga teachers. They’re all the same. Like manic depressives they do the holy and purges and then they do the drink. Excessively

I don’t hold much hope for Hobbit now that the half naked women are attracting other attention, but wait, a coach draws up bringing the intake of evening guests! Fresh meat for Hobbit, there’s quite a few women he can dive into now. I wonder if I should warn anyone that he has powerful sperm? In fact, that’s probably in short supply, what with reading that a few cups of coffee a day reduce male infertility and the donors having disappeared from clinics due that law that says that x amount of years later the kid can come looking for you. And there’s scarce competition being that the bride has more girlfriends, naturally, than men. Men on the whole are scarce in the yoga world.

We make an exit before the evening music kicks off. We’re off to stay at a former convent nearby. How delicious. I wonder if they left a habit or two behind for dressig up fun. But that’s another story.