Over the last few weeks we’ve been hearing the story of Kathryn, mother of the bride, as she searched for her outfit for the wedding with the (slightly enforced) help of the brilliant fashion consultant extraordinaire Evelyne! Now, as our regular readers know, here on Bride Vs Groom we like to share both sides of the story and so, with Kathryn’s ensemble completed, it’s time for the father of the bride to share his tale!
If I was given the choice of going to the dentist, having a small surgical procedure under local anaesthetic or spending the day when in a beautiful tropical paradise, wandering from shop to shop watching your wife try on endless dresses and hats, guess what? I definitely wouldn’t choose to go shopping!! Yes it’s better than having to face the hangman’s noose or a firing squad but not much else.
Now the indomitable Evelyne had worked tirelessly in her own unique style to get the wife, Kathryn, mother of the bride, all kitted up and ready to tango. But it had taken an eternity, I was bored, tired and desperately thirsty. I was beginning to fantasise about a nice cold beer or two in the shade, sitting under a large Olive tree and then concluding the proceedings with a nice cuppa tea and a piece of cheesecake. Cafe Nirvana beckoned along with a huge sense of relief that the shopping was over. Now we could get down to important business and quench our gustatory desires!
I was about to head off in pursuit of this hedonistic paradise when this curly haired little firecracker that goes under the name of Evelyne, spun round and pointed at me, exclaiming “now it’s your turn”. Before my recalcitrant side had a chance to emerge, she grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the shop. Compliance was sort of assumed so I decided to conform. Now I’ve never been interested in dressing up or down, never worried about style or colour, as long as a garment was clean, or at least not too smelly! I communicated this to Evelyne; she retorted “yeah well that’s kinda obvious by looking at how you are dressed.” The cheek of it! I thought I had looked kinda cool on this occasion with my shades on.
“You need to wear colours that suit you and for the wedding you need to wear olive trousers with white shoes and a pink shirt with a dicky-bow tie”, Evelyn informed me. Now I have only ever worn black or brown shoes so white shoes appeared outrageous. But a pink shirt and a dicky-bow was surely beyond ridiculous? Pink was for girls and dicky-bows were pompous or for fancy dress. I revealed my perceptions to Evelyne who dismissed my fears and asked, no demanded (!) that I trust her. I was told that I didn’t know what was good for me and it would be best to follow her instructions as “the father of the bride needed to look the business when walking up the aisle”. By now I was teetering on the edge of exhaustion and dehydration, so in the interests of expediency I decided to acquiesce and give it a go. So in pursuit of pink shirts, dicky-bow ties, olive trousers and white shoes, we wandered off into the afternoon sun. I felt by now I was developing “Tourettes Syndrome” as I had an overwhelming desire to hum “Lily the Pink” which I couldn’t suppress. Perhaps it was just a chronic dose of “Over-exposure to Shopping Syndrome”. I was about to enter a brave new world but would this bizarre clothing combination look as bad as it sounded in my head. Find out in Part 5, coming soon to the blog!!
