I admit it. I’m expecting a large lump in the throat and a bit of subtle snivelling at about 1pm on Friday, 23 May. Because that’s the moment when my wee sis will be tying the knot with her bidey-in.
And this really is a sister doin’ it for herself. None of yer bridezilla bullshit, no frou-frou favours or frightening fake bake for our kid. Not for my sis layers of tulle, chiffon, satin and silk. Forget the ten grand budget for booze and buffet. None of your Big Fat Gypsy get-ups for the Maryhill marriage of the year. Nah, this beautiful bride will be sporting a wee number she bought off the sale rail at Miss Selfridge for a tenner, and handing out cheese straws baked by her mammy til well into the wee hours (nice one, Mum).
Even better, my skin and blister, and her intended, will be doing the matrimonial fandango in the comfort of their very own hoose. Which seems kinda apt, seeing as this is a gaff that looks like it’s stepped right out of the pages of a Sunday supplement. But never mind the stylish nick-nacks, the paintings and prints, the satin and tat, what’s so magical about this marriage is the fact that they’re getting hitched in their own home sweet home, a love nest of legend.
As alternative weddings go, it’s right up there. Which speaks volumes for the intrinsically artistic individuals doing the deed. No run-of-the-mill matrimony was ever going to be on the (hand-crafted invitation) cards for these two cool cats.
Not that being cool counts for all that much in my book. Not when it comes to my sisters. Not when it comes to their choice of other half. When it comes to boyfs, lovers, long termers and livers-in, all I’ve ever given a flying fart about is that my skin and blisters each hook up with A Good Guy.
There’s three of us, see. Three gallus gals with only a teeny, tiny three year age gap between us. But I dunno about “sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters”. We’re not always tight, we’ve had our share of sibling stramash, and we’ve been through the familial mill, but sisters we stay. Heart and soul sisters.
We’re cut from the same cloth, me and the gals, came up the same way. We’re a gang of three. We’ve all got a distinctive worldview, we fight to be right, and we insist and persist with a certain, concreted-in way of doing things. Dammit, we know our own minds.
But we also know that it cannae be easy living with us. So, hats off to you, the three fine fellas who rise to the challenge (usually) with charm and good cheer.
So, dear sis, middle child and sibling superglue, the other two members of your own wee gang of three are sending you love, and wishing you well with your hubby of choice. He sure gets our vote. As you say “I do” you can be sure your snivelling sisters will be cheering you on from the sidelines.
Oh, and thanks for lining up your sisters as the after-dinner entertainment double act. When we take to the stage to deliver our special siblings’ wedding speech we’ll be doing our very, very best to give you a bright and beautiful beamer…