That Belfast weekend two years ago was a memorable experience for so many reasons, not forgetting the beautiful wedding at Lusty Beg Island. The weather behaved like a perfect gentleman; wonderful with a hint of stroppiness in the form of raindrops just as the bride and groom kissed. The number that fell could probably be counted on one hand but it did make me want to shout ‘it’s spitting, it’s spitting, everybody in’ at an inopportune moment. I managed to calm my inner comic and avoided spoiling the big day.
In fact, narrowly avoiding spoiling the big day seemed to be a theme for the wedding, the groom had forgotten the edit of the ‘first dance’; cue a number of people frantically downloading the track from iTunes on their iPhones. It was sorted, but with a short break in proceedings. Then of course there was the obligatory domestic amongst the wedding guests, which fortunately only became evident the morning after when we had to ferry a guest member back to Belfast because his ‘missis’ had left him stranded on the island. He didn’t seem to mind much and ensured he had a number of bottles of beer for the journey back to Belfast, just to ‘take the edge off the journey you understand’.
I also seem to remember ‘breaking’ the father of the groom after having him bust out some moves with me on the dance floor. It really was a great wedding and the black suede Manolos spent most of the day on my feet; I say most of the day as they did have to sit out some of the dancing, apparently they were a little tired and they knew that I was having the first pinch of the neuroma. Bless them, for being so understanding; they didn’t sit in the corner though, after all no one puts baby in the corner.
Like most of my heeled shoes these Manolos haven’t seen the outside of my wardrobe in at least a year and when I checked them out earlier today, in order to take the photo I noticed that sadly they’re a tad more battered than I thought they were, guess I’ll have to keep them after all…
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