stephbg | A wedding or two

I scraped my spoons together this afternoon, determined to make it to a friend's wedding although the reception was out of the question. Friend D is a former minion and absolutely fabulous person and professional. Throws a damn fine wedding too :-)

Have you ever been to the Scented Gardens in South Perth? If not, I dare you to locate it using the resources of the internet. Or a road map. Or the signage on the foreshore. Or half a dozen random strangers.

I think we can all see where this is going.

The combined services of google maps and various wedding sites led me to a place on the foreshore where a wedding was taking place. Good start, for I imagined that where there was one outdoor wedding, another might follow. I was well over an hour early because I had no idea what the traffic and parking situation might be on a Saturday Anzac Day on the river. I'd also doubted my navigational abilities (I know, an appalling lack of self confidence), but I'd brought a book (New Ceres Nights) and a bottle of water and was prepared to sit on a bench by the river for a bit.

Time passed. I occasionally went out on sorties, not quite convinced that the site I'd staked out was correct. The in situ wedding crowd grew larger and larger. An MC emerged and started warming up the crowd in a manner more suited to an indoor venue at night ("All the guys say woo!"). The bridal party failed to arrive. My suspicions began to deepen. They'd have to get a move on if they were to clear the site for the next wedding. I approached a guest on the periphery who'd wandered off with a baby. Did he know if this was the Scented Gardens? No idea. I mentioned I was looking for a different wedding. He said this one was running very late, which nudged the site back to feasable.

I quested again in search of signage. Ask me a question about dog exercise areas and cycle paths along the South Perth foreshore. That I now know. Ask me about algal blooms, feeding birds, or boat ramps. That I now know. No maps indicating the location of the Scented Gardens.

By the time I'd returned to the vicinity of the wedding the bridal party had arrived and were boogying down the aile to the much-amplified tones of Bony M's "(By the rivers of) Babylon". I think the bridesmaids were in bright pink. *shudder* It was Wrong.

Quite convinced by this point that I had the wrong spot but with no idea whatsoever where to go I approached the driver of the stretch Thing in which the bridal party had arrived. I think it was meant to be a 1930's Rolls Royce multiplied by 11, but it was a horrible chunk of tasteless machinery. I figured the driver would know where he'd just driven to, and where to find every wedding venue in Perth.

Nope.

Next port of call a couple of guys from the Monaro Car Club leaning on proper albeit not very wedding-like cars. One produced a map and wonder of wonders, there was the Scented Gardens, maybe 1.5km away, and I had about 7 minutes to get there. I fled the Bogan Wedding From Hell and scurried west.

And scurried.

And scurried some more.

Eventually I located more gardens, and then a man in a suit guarding an unmarked path. I had indeed found the right place! Yay! A few minutes late, but a good 10 minutes ahead of the bride. I was by no means the last guest to arrive.

The Right Wedding
In contrast to the doof-doof BWFH, this event was graced with a live harp/flute/cello trio (A harpist, a flautist and a cellist walk into a bar...). There were four bridesmaids (no groomsmen), three mothers of the bride and groom, and the musicians and celebrant were all ladies.

The service was just beautiful. The words were the wittiest, most elegant and heart-felt I'd ever heard. The ceremonials with candles and binding ribbons were brief but meaningful. The celebrant had clearly spent enough time with the bride and groom to know their story and the service was consistent in tone throughout. No inappropriate sport metaphors or long lectures about the business of marriage. No chopping and changing between custom bits and standard speeches; it all flowed beautifully.

The bride giggled and blushed fetchingly.

The bride's brother didn't quite make it through his short reading without a little cry and took a few moments to collect himself, and then he did it all again during the Croation translation.

A small stuffed tiger sat on the table with the rings and candles and things. The bride's ceremonial ribbon seemed to feature a Tickle Me Elmo(tm) badge. The word "awesomeness" appeared in the the service not once but twice. Everybody smiled, and there were many moments of spontaneous laughter. The service climaxed with the words "D, you may kiss your husband". This required a few practices. And yet it was still elegant and dignified. Wow. Best. Wedding. Ever.

Probably not the best wedding dress ever. Strapless and slashed in figure-challenging places it didn't seem to fit very well, but I have a Thing about strapless dresses so my opinion is not to be trusted. It was a lovely dress really, but it wasn't quite the *right* dress.

Bridesmaid dresses were very nice deep dusty blue bias-cut floaty affairs that would definitely see life after the day, and which flattered the different shapes and sizes required to wear them. In a stroke of complete luck my purple silk scarf was the same colour as the MOB's dress and FOB's tie, so I didn't clash.

The guests were asked to defer their congratulations until the reception so the photographers could catch the remaining light -

(BTW pssssst! Lady Photographer At The Very Front Who Blocked The View: your panties kept showing above your low-cut trousers when you crouched to take photos. Perhaps you should consider your working conditions and adjust your uniform appropriately.)

- so I resigned myself to slipping away without comment. Fortunately the bride tackled me at the entrance and dragged her new husband over to meet me. I heard the dreaded words that he'd "heard a lot" about me, but we didn't have more than a few minutes before the photographers got rabid and we parted.

I calculated later that I'd covered about 5km on foot this afternoon, so any faint hopes for the reception in Fremantle were squished. I'm so glad that I made it to the service. Long life and happiness to you both, D & J!