Readers, I married him. Yep, the wedding has been and gone. Now that I’m a Mrs and wedding planning is a thing of the past, I will have lots more time to blog. About, err, the wedding. I’ll try to mix them up so my blog doesn’t become too wedding-tastic, but expect to see more content in general from now on *party popper emoji*.
At the ripe old age of 32, I have been on a lot of hen dos. I’ve learned the can-can, how to make bunting and fascinators, Flashdance. I’ve been rollerskating, abseiling and shooting. And I’ve eaten more afternoon teas than you can shake a stick at.
What I mean to say is that I am fairly well versed in hen dos (and don’ts), and have been lucky enough to attend some fantastic ones. So unfortunately for my long-suffering bridesmaids, I had a fairly narrow vision of what I wanted for my hen dos. There was a massive list, in fact. Here were some of the criteria (I think my bridesmaids may have PTSD now):