At 46, this is my ultimate wedding fantasy

I often write about the ups and downs of being single in a gung-ho fashion. But, to be honest, I'd love to get married - and I want a massive party.

Wow. Dramatic beach wedding with Very Phallic Formation in the background. Perhaps I’ll add this location to my ultimate wedding fantasy. Photo by Dmitry Schemelev on Unsplash

This week, I browsed some very fancy engagement rings on an antique jewellery website that I read about in Vogue.

And, before you start fretting about where your invitation is and whether to buy a hat, no, I haven’t failed to mention my forthcoming nuptials to you - perusing massive emerald art deco rocks in shop windows or on the internet is something I do from time to time.

I ended up on the fancy antique jewellery website because I heard Annie Mac tell a funny story on her Sidetracked podcast about DJing at a posh American wedding that was so posh it was covered in Vogue, so I Googled it.

I read about the entire posh wedding, from the rehearsal dinner (why does this event even exist?) and the multiple dresses to the 52 wedding photos and the vintage earrings the bride wore - a gift, of course, from her husband - which were from the jewellery website I then lost half an hour of my life to.

I went straightaway to the rings section and clicked on several, which all had a price that was labelled simply as ‘more than £50,000’. It seems I have expensive taste too.

I love emerald green, but in the back of my mind I worry that green is the colour of envy, so it might not be a good look. What do you reckon? Hmm, diamonds are lovely, but I would like something different. Antique ruby and diamond oblique cluster mounted in platinum? That might do.

Over the years, I’ve done various kinds of fantasy wedding planning. Initially, I daydreamed about a big, white wedding in a church in a Cotswolds village with a reception in a marquee in a field.

My early plans were very traditional: morning dress, hats, reception line. My father would walk me down the aisle and perhaps there would be a surprise gospel choir singing ‘All You Need Is Love’ a la Love Actually. The first dance would be to Aretha Franklin’s You’re All I Need to Get By. This was my fantasy wedding in my twenties.

In my thirties, I attended many weddings, mainly to get inspiration for my own.* The fantasy version of my wedding didn’t change much, partly because of the lack of fiancé, boyfriend or even a suitable wedding plus-one.

But the main reason I no longer wanted to think about what my wedding would be like was because my father died when I was 31. I couldn’t contemplate the idea that he wouldn’t be there for it, and I cried heaving tears at one ceremony where the first words the vicar said were: ‘This is the proudest day of a father’s life.’   

I grieved my dad as the single years went on, and various unsuitable men came and went. Eventually, I felt ready to change my first dance song to Aretha Franklin and George Michael’s I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me), as a kind of hopeful omen.

More recently, I’ve updated my fantasy wedding plan. Along with the large antique rock, it includes me in a very slinky iridescent sequinned dress, me learning to DJ and doing a surprise DJ set at the reception (sorry guys, it won’t be such a surprise now), me doing a fucking brilliant speech, my mum doing a fucking brilliant speech, and my little nephews holding my hands as we walk down the aisle.

But until now, I’ve never felt ready to write about my wedding day dreams. Hell, even writing about coming to terms with not having had kids now seems like less of a taboo than saying I’d like to get married.

Until now, the bits I’ve written about being single have been along the lines of Dating Apps Are Shit! Or These Are Some Terrible Dates I Went On! or Why Mr Right Won’t Solve All Your Problems! in a sort of gung-ho, jolly hockey sticks, we’re all in this together kind of a way.

Admitting that I’ve browsed engagement rings with no engagement in the foreseeable seems like the biggest confession ever (apart from the one about not liking dogs).

But, this is The Honesty Box and I gotta be honest: yes, I’m a a grown woman and a feminist, but frankly, sometimes I’m fucking tired of waiting. Until right now, I haven’t been vulnerable enough to say, actually, I think I would like a husband please.

So here goes: I would like to meet my future husband now (or soon), please. And guess what, I’ve already planned our wedding.

*To my dear friends whose weddings I attended – this is a joke. I loved your weddings, and I attended because I love you. But when I get married, don’t be surprised if there’s a surprise brass ensemble at the reception…