Wedding bells are ringing…

Yes, I said yes: yes to getting married in November, on the 12th.

Please don’t worry about gifts, although if you insist, a bottle of pink bubbly will suffice – my “lady petrol”, as my bridesmaid calls it.

Wedding-wise we’re almost good to go.

Himself hasn’t fled yet, the licence is purchased, the guests informed, the reception booked, the canapes chosen, the band practising, my friends are collecting rose petals for confetti, my bridesmaid and flower-girl have their frocks, the groom and his best man have their tuxedos laundered.

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What’s missing? Oh yes, The Dress. The bride’s attire remains a mystery, even to herself.

Initially, I thought I’d wear a nice, drapey ivory suit, something I could use again, dressed up with a bustier, dressed down with a vest. Perfect.

I am, after all, 50, so the time for princess dresses is far behind me. I’m not a princess anyway.

I am a queen, dammit, and queens get married in… pantsuits? Well, so I thought.

And then Himself announced his tuxedo intentions, and our venue is rather upmarket, and suddenly my notions of an easy, comfy white suit – a luxedo, if you will – seemed underdressed.

Nonetheless I tried to find one, but all the ivory suits available are polyester, or made for the Hillary Clinton campaign trail or a double-breasted lesbian wedding.

I needed more so I cast the net wider, visiting four bridal shops (eye-wateringly expensive), one dress-hire place (synthetic hell), a vintage evening wear emporium (people used to be so tiny), and two charity bridal shops where they collect all the wedding dresses donated (great idea, but no luck).

By this point I’ve tried on 40 white outfits, and one pink one. I’m exhausted.

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I thought I had found The One, handcrafted from ivory silk, elegant, floaty, lovely, with eco credentials and, naturally, a pricetag to match. It was love.

But Himself, with his easypeasy wear-a-million-times-andno-one-bats-an-eyelid tuxedo, threw a spanner in the works by declaring it immoral to spend a fortune on something that will only be worn once.

I’m still leaning towards The One.

And if he carries on like that, I may well get to use it again, at my next wedding.