Wedding planning: Where on earth do you start?

Ever since Las Vegas was vetoed, I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that I will probably have to do something that I’ve always insisted I don’t want to do, won’t do and that only nutters do: plan a wedding.

A proper wedding, with speeches and dresses and table plans and all that crazy jazz.

I’ve watched countless friends go into meltdown over venues, guest lists, dresses, invitations and even the colour of the ribbon on the cake.

I’ve been a shoulder to cry on, the voice of reason (‘do you think anyone else is going to notice what colour the ribbon is?’) the unthinking friend who just doesn’t get it (‘do you think anyone else is going to care what colour the ribbon is?’)  and not-so-secretly I’ve rolled my eyes at all the faff and needless worry. Because they’re just making a mountain out of a molehill, right?

Except I’ve suddenly realised that this is a molehill of epic proportions. And the reason everyone seems to get stressed over wedding organisation is that it’s actually really very stressful.

They weren’t just being silly after all.

[Wedding blog: I'm getting married - should I be more excited?]
[The wedding checklist]

Vague discussions with already-wedded friends have revealed that I have more decisions to make in the next few months than I have made in my whole life. Bad news for someone whose only chance of a gold medal is if they introduced dithering as an Olympic sport.

The big things are the venue, the type of ceremony, the budget (though I fear that will be decided for me by the first two) who to invite, when to have it and what to do about food.

Once these basics are in, there’s all manner of ridiculous mini-cisions to make about things that really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things but that will gain magnificent importance the longer I (we) fail to make a decision on them.

These are the flowers, the dress, the bridesmaids, hair and make up, entertainment, music, speeches, chair covers, furniture in general, table decorations, Champagne provision, photographer, the ushers’ uniforms, the presence of children…

And then we get to the most ridiculous things that I’m worrying about already. Can I use hay bales instead of seats? Should it be BYO? Will there be enough local taxis to get all the guests home at the end?

And more importantly will I be thin enough by then? Do I need to learn how to apply fake eyelashes? Should I get a fake tan? If I do get a fake tan will Adam look ridiculous pallid? Should I convince Adam to get a fake tan?

Re-read the last paragraph and tell me I haven’t already utterly lost it.

I honestly have no idea where to start.

We were given a notebook as an engagement present, which I have been writing some ideas in and in which we have tried to pull together a vague guest list for the sake of knowing some numbers.

But then it got out of control (will second cousins’ new partners and children require invites?).  So we gave up and watched Celebrity Big Brother instead.

It’s so easy to lose sight of what matters when people are more interested in finding out what kind of dress you’ll have, or what colour your hair will be. When I’m more preoccupied with what songs the band will play and whether it’s feasible to hand-crochet all of the flowers.  So I’ve written on the first page my priorities in case I forget them in the sea of bunting options.

1. A nice civil ceremony that’s both solemn and full of joy
2. Our closest friends and family there to share it with us and have a good time
3. Music we love made by our favourite people
4. Enough booze to get everyone nicely toasted

But in order to get these, I’ve got to plan. And while I’m great at grand plans that never come to fruition, I’m rubbish at the nitty gritty of actually making things happen.

So whenever I conclude that I just can’t make these decisions, I close the book, forget all about the wedding and relapse into Phase One of Project Wedding: Denial.

I think Phase Two is Panic. So I might just stay here.

Read last week's Don't tell the Groom: How I stopped worrying and learned to love the ring
Next week: The Guest List of Doom.