Gonna dress you up in my love...

If there is one dress more important than a wedding dress, I know not what the heck it is. Which might explain why I seem to have developed profound wedding dress fear - you know the scene in Sex & the City when Miranda coaxes Carrie into some trampy bridal shop and a wedding dress brings Carrie out in hives? Well, it's something akin to that. A nice swathe of prickly heat across my chest, and a little voice in my head that jeers at me that I'll look like a prize winning fool in most of them: too curve-playing, too much netting, too much bridal bluster or equally too sexpot, fashion-forward or puritan (the jig is up with most brides - very few of us make it down the aisle chaste these days).

A wedding dress is, after all, likely to be the most you will spend on a few acres of silk and lace in your life. Regardless of your budget: this will be the dress that pales any other in significance. It has to stand the test of time, so that on looking back on your wedding photos not only makes you fondly recollect precisely how that dress made you feel, but that it is as timeless as your marriage will hopefully prove to be.

I feel that weddings are ultimately a celebration of you having had the good fortune to stumble across each other in this crazed world, so why wouldn't you wear a glorious, beautiful and yes, possibly extravagant, dress to such an extraordinary party?

Personally, I want my dress to remind my glorious Fiancee why he's marrying me (besides my raging intellect, baking skills and whip sharp wit, that is...pah!). If there's ever a time to take someone's breath away, this is it. It's about being a woman, a wife. Made for loving - and that's just the dress.

Over the past few months, I've been struck by some particularly good dresses, shops and the sheer pleasure that a truly lovely bridal shop assistant can be - and equally by the postcode premium whereby some areas ratchet up their prices dependent upon what they perceive as what local women are willing to pay and might be oblivious to the fact there is a shop just down the way that is easily hundreds of pounds cheaper. Not naming names, as I am a well mannered thing, but I sincerely wish there was some way of informing brides of said shops. It makes me a touch sad to think that they could shave two hundred pounds off their frock, and spend more on some super pretty shoes.

These have been the highlights thus far (and I still don't have my dress...)

• The White Closet, West Didsbury, Manchester - a delight of a shop, with a happy mix of guileful, bohemian dresses and softly layered fuller dresses. The shop assistant proved herself to be a gift of a girl - warm and witty but enamoured of her dresses. Plus, there's cake. thewhitecloset.co.uk
• Clifton Brides - the first dresses I fell for after an educational experience in a grotty dress shop in central Bristol where I had gone in pursuit of a Vivienne Westwood knock off (worst incidence of heat rash so far - whole torso, and itching. Nice). Clifton Brides was a revelation - a well chosen collection of refined, sumptuous gowns that felt just as lovely on. The bridal assistants were also fabulous - gentle and generous yet insightful and wise. Dresses here around the £1,000 mark.
• Vivienne Westwood - there is a reason the grand dame of all things buccaneer and amazing is so revered. Her dresses are so artfully crafted they would have you believe the little seamstress mice had been at them from Beatrix Potter's Tailor of Gloucester, and the weight and quality of the silks speaks of the aristocratic tradition. These made me feel like the quintessential rebel bride I desperately want to be: sadly, the £14,000 price tag means this just isn't going to happen. But, I learnt what I should be looking for in the craft of the dress, and a great deal about spirit and form.
• There are some corkers on the high street - Monsoon has some swoony Florence Welch appropriate ones for around £200, French Connection some redux glamour 1970's feel dresses with soft pleats for £155, and rumours are that Urban Outfitters' new bridal range will make it's way across the pond next year.




Monique L'Huillier 2010


• Dreamy dresses of note from: Paloma Blanca, Ellis bridal, Vera Wang, Jasmine, Charlotte Balbier, Monique L'Huillier, Johanna Hehir, Sincerity, Lusan Mandongus, Jenny Packham...

Cakes away!

And here we have it!

Behold the mini wedding cake as mentioned below, sent to a certain Wedding magazine editrice...who we hope likes cake.



Let them make cake...

It's a misconception universally acknowledged that whilst wallowing in a bathtub, quite possibly being sponged down by the Butlers in the Buff of her day, Marie Antoinette uttered the infamous line "Let them eat cake" in riposte to reports of Parisian plebeians hurling cabbages at her gates, and demanding her head. The truth is that this seemingly blase, facile statement was concocted by a satirical wit who didn't like queen Marie A very much: it's origin a cunningly edited expression of her genuine concern when alarming reports of mass hunger and unrest reached her, and she pleaded with her kitchens to feed the poor rabble anything left over in the Versailles larders.

Anyway, history lesson over: this week saw my first attempt at baking a Wedding Cake (on a miniature scale). I was put off the idea of buying one for our nuptials from the outset when I realised that unless made of solid gold iced with Swarovski, they are - in general - extortionately overpriced. And having long a prodigious cake baker been, thanks to a good Delia Smith cum Mrs Beaton education from mum, it makes sense to put my heritage to use: plus I have a year's worth of practicing ahead of me to rustle up something artisanal, but still suitably special and decadent.

I'll post an image up later of said mini cake, but for now, I'm going to share what is apparently one of the hardest Wedding Cake recipes to lay ones hands on in the world: and no, that's not hyperbole. Cake maker to the stars Laura Wing's Sachertorte Chocolate Wedding Cake recipe was originally printed in Sainsbury's Magazine of May 2008, and sold out in a New York minute. Back issues simply do not exist, such was the demand for the wedding cake recipes it contained. I had a bash at a white chocolate version, but as white chocolate is more oleaginous and sticky than dark (something to do with the cocoa solids to oils ratio) it was far more fickle and tricksy than when using darker chocolates.

(I also found baking works best to a soundtrack of rootsy americana - something to do with images of Dolly Parton in a pinny I suspect).

For the 15cm (6in) cake
225g (8oz) Belgian luxury plain chocolate
1 large egg
4 large eggs, separated
175g (6oz) caster sugar
110g (4oz) ground almonds
1 level tablespoon finely ground coffee

For the 23cm (9in) cake
400g (14oz) Belgian luxury plain chocolate
2 large eggs
8 large eggs, separated
350g (12oz) caster sugar
225g (8oz) ground almonds
1 rounded tablespoon finely ground coffee

For the 30cm (12in) cake
1kg (2lb 4oz) Belgian luxury plain chocolate
5 large eggs
20 large eggs, separated
800g (1lb 12oz) caster sugar
570g (1lb 4oz) ground almonds
1 heaped tablespoon finely ground coffee

For the icing
1.15kg (2lb 8oz) dark chocolate, at least 51% cocoa solids, broken into squares
2 x 250g packs unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1 x 454g jar apricot jam

METHOD FOR EACH OF THE CAKES
Don’t even think about making all 3 cakes together, as a domestic oven and equipment will not be able to cope with the quantities. Every cake tier uses the same method, but when making the largest cake, whisk the egg whites in three batches, folding each batch in as soon as they have been whisked.

Preheat the oven to 170°C, 325°F, gas mark 3. Place a shallow dish or baking tin on the bottom shelf of the oven, then fill it with near-boiling water (it isn’t safe to fill it before placing it on the shelf). The shelf for baking the cakes should be placed a third up from the bottom of the oven, just above the water.
Break the chocolate into squares. Place the squares in a large, heatproof bowl set over a medium-sized pan of barely simmering water until melted, making sure that the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water. Beware overheating the chocolate, or letting any water near it - it will go grainy like coffee grounds...

While the chocolate is melting, put the whole egg(s), the egg yolks and sugar together in another large bowl. Beat with a whisk until the mixture is thick and creamy and has reached the ribbon stage. With a large metal spoon, quickly stir the melted chocolate into the egg mixture, along with the almonds and coffee, until well blended.

In a seriously clean large bowl, beat the egg whites with the whisk, until stiff, but not dry (see note, above, regarding egg whites for the largest cake). Then, using a large metal spoon, fold 1 heaped tablespoon of the egg whites into the chocolate mixture, to loosen it. Quickly and carefully fold in the rest, using a figure of eight motion, until just combined.

Carefully pour the mixture into the prepared cake tin and lightly smooth over the surface, then place the tin on a baking tray. Cover each of the 2 smaller cakes with a double thickness of baking parchment and make a hole in the centre of each the size of a 50p piece. Cover the 30cm (12in) cake with a double thickness of extra-wide foil with a hole made in it, as above.
Bake the 15cm (6in) cake for 55-65 minutes; the 23cm (9in) cake will take 75-85 minutes to bake and the 30cm (12in) cake will take about 23⁄4-3 hours.
The cake is ready when well-risen, with a nicely set crust, and when the bamboo or metal skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean. Remove from the oven, take off the parchment or foil from the top of the cake, cover the cake with a damp, clean tea towel to keep it moist and leave to cool in the tin for 1 hour. After this time, turn it out on to a wire rack to cool completely, then remove the baking parchment and discard.

Icing
When all the cakes are made and have cooled completely, make the icing. Put the chocolate in a large heatproof bowl set over a medium-sized pan of hot water over a low heat for 15-20 minutes, or until melted, making sure that the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water. Add the butter, bit by bit, stirring gently until it has melted. Remove from the heat and then set aside to cool until the icing mixture has started to set to the consistency of double cream.
Meanwhile, if the tops of the cakes are uneven, trim with a sharp, long-bladed knife, then turn them upside down on to wire racks so that there is a flat surface for icing. Brush away any loose crumbs and place the flat plates or trays underneath each rack to catch any drips from the icing.
Melt the apricot jam in a small pan over a low heat, strain to remove any lumps and then, using a pastry brush, brush over the surface of the cakes to prevent any loose crumbs from spoiling the icing. Heat the jam again if it starts to thicken up too much.
Starting with the largest cake, pour over a thin layer of icing and then, using a long-bladed palette knife, quickly and evenly smooth it over the top and sides. Repeat with the remaining cakes and chill them in the fridge until set – about 30 minutes. If your fridge is not big enough to accommodate the cakes, you will need to put them aside in a cool place instead and allow longer for the icing to set.
After this time, put the remaining icing back over the pan of barely simmering water to melt again, then remove and allow to thicken, as before, and give the cakes a second coat. Chill the cakes until the icing has set, then repeat the whole process for a third and final time and chill for about 1 hour. Any spare icing on the trays can be saved and used at the last minute to disguise any marks – just melt it, then pass it through a sieve into a small lidded container to remove any crumbs, and refrigerate.
When the icing has set, remove the cakes from the fridge and, using a small sharp knife dipped in very hot water, carefully cut them away from the cooling racks. Using the cake lift, remove each cake to a tray lined with baking parchment and refrigerate, uncovered, overnight.
NB: The cake freezes well if each tier is kept in an airtight container, un-iced and wrapped in a double layer of foil, for up to 8 weeks. Defrost overnight at room temperature. Alternatively, make the cakes up to 1 week ahead, wrap in a double layer of foil and keep in airtight containers in a cool place. Ice them up to 5 days ahead and store in individual Tupperware-type boxes (put the cake on the lid and click the box into place over the top) in the fridge or a cool place. If stored in the fridge, remove 4 hours before decorating so that any condensation on the cakes will disappear.

A rush of love to the head

In among the more serious stuff (such as Champagne), I have been distracted. What I wasn't prepared for in among the more salient production aspects, talking to vicars and romance of it all was to have my whimsical streak tempted by feathered hair concoctions.

                                                                                                  I still have no idea what my wedding dress will look like, besides some tendancy towards silk satins in the exact hue of double cream, with absolutely no diamante: but inspiration came in the unlikely form of a beautiful cobalt and green wing as painted by Albrecht Durer. Then I spotted Sarah Byworth (Associate Director at Relative MO) desporting her unusual headress with pride. And chose to overlook the other, er, interesting guests' guises. A little rootling around on the internet uncovered these lovely things at Pearl & Ivy for just £25 a pop (http://www.pearlandivy.co.uk/)  This is when all focus on crockery went out of the window.

One of these plumed concoctions was made last summer by my own fair paws. Feathers, velvet ribbon and a clear plastic comb from a local haberdashery, and one headdress later - which I like to think of  as my peasant's crown: made recovered feathers from a befelled Pheasant (I suspect the local fox, rather than rifle-toting country types). It seemed such a shame to leave them scattered there underfoot, their oily lustre and Mitford sisters' country styling on the ground to fade away into mulch...

Ok, so I'll probably end up in some fabulous frock that won't suit such head attire and go with a Jenny Packham medieval-lite gilded band - and I really should get back to the plates and napkins of it all - but they are a ravishing way of injecting some wilder adornments into a traditional get up.

Marriage: The maths bit

Preserve of the overly careful, deeply unromantic - unless there's something in numerology that does it for you, in which case, my numerical dyslexia and I salute you - and prissy old things budgets might be: but they are also essential to weddings.

This week, glorious medieval venue confirmed, it was maths time and I was unexpectedly on very unsure footed territory. It's all too easy to get all blithe and swoony with the romance of it all, and to let the reason you're doing all of this [the wedding which begets the marriage] get lost among the small things. A lovely, personal, unforgettable day is a given with a wedding, so forgetting the whole meeting of what I perceived as other's expectations, trusting our own instincts  - was a must. In the words of wedding luminary Mark Niemierko, you should always walk into a wedding and think "this is so them". And it will hopefully only be the champagne addled bits that might slip off into the ether's of time, anyhow. Equally, although you should always be mindful of knowing when less is more (this especially applies to budget blitzing flowers, guests, and diamante - for which there is very little excuse), it is the time for getting carried away with the sheer joy of a wedding, to be generous, and to wear the most breathtaking dress and say the soppiest things to each other.

One excel spreadsheet later, and numerous "what does a wedding actually need?" ponderings later having rifled through the trusty internet blogs to find out what a budget checklist looks like, I came up with the below....and a few handy tips and titbits of advice I picked up along the way.

• A venue (see previous post). But don't be afraid to gently ask if the price they quote you is the best they can do - lacing a bit of cheek with nicety goes a long way. One venue we looked at dropped £1,000 from their hire fee once we asked about best price offers.
• Registrars/Wedding ceremony fees: realistically this is going to cost you anywhere from £120*                                                  *standard registry office fee
• Venue furniture, marquees, dancefloors, soft furnishings: Many venues are going to fetter you to their own suppliers, but if you are creating most of your reception from scratch, get quotations, pleasantly barter, and be aware that is generally wisest to consolidate your suppliers rather than hustling around - their prices are generally better and it will save the stresses of trying to ensure everything arrives at your venue to schedule.
• Wedding breakfast: go as 'local' and 'seasonal' as you can with food and caterers - thus reducing your eco footprint, supporting local trade, and the seasonality of your wedding will keep costs down (for instance, autumn and winter are peak season for wildfowl, game, Venison etc).
• Wedding cake and flowers: don't let talented relatives, friends or acquaintances hide their resourcefulness and skills under a bushel - many would be only too happy to help if you cover costs or would accept in lieu of a wedding present. Also, don't overlook your inner Nigella or florist - many adult education centres offer one day courses in floristry and cake baking direct.gov.uk/en/EducationAndLearning/AdultLearning/DG_96



Girl Meets Dress' Dina Bar-El

wedding dress to hire from £109

• Wedding dresses: whilst you can get some corkers in sample sales, these are likely to be that little bit grey and forlorn. Wise girls who wish to hire go to girlmeetsdress.com.
• Bridesmaids' dresses: think Sex and the City when it comes to bridesmaids - individual colours, sexy, elegant and with the potential to be worn again as evening gowns. French Connection, Reiss, Coast and Topshop's floor length silk chiffon numbers are all worth a look for a dress around the £120 mark. Traditionally the bridal party pays for these, but you might want to ask if bridesmaids would be willing to chip in if you all fall in love with a more expensive dress.
• Groom and Groomsmen's outfits: Dependent on whether you decide upon more classic wedding dress for the chaps, or choose to ask they all wear a particular colour suit, you might be expected to help with costs or pay their hire fees.
• Hairdressers and beauticians for the bride: Whilst it is lovely to be cosseted on your very special day, it is downright expensive. Seek out trainee or blossoming hairdressers/make up artists through friends and offer a reasonable fee (you could also try posting an advert through University or college website where such subjects are taught - such as arts.ac.uk - for London College of Fashion trained beauticians. Many beauty counters in department stores and larger Boots will also happily help with bridal beauty (Chanel, Mac, Lancome and Nars are lovely).
• Favours
• Wedding bands: antique rings are in general much better value. Don't be put off by the thought that they are likely from a failed marriage or given away by families - think of them as a ring that needs another chance, a re-homing, and your loving partnership is just the place for it.
• Band and music: A rule of thumb goes something like this - pay for a rollicking band you know and love to play your wedding, then stick on a preloaded iPod for the unbridled dance floor action. You can also use it to reference songs that would mean something to particular guests - a little song 'gift' if you will - such as that Van Halen song that he broke his leg leaping from the table to, or the swinging Andy Williams for your aunt, and Kings of Leon for your younger, rocking cousin. Plus, it's free!
• Venue decoration: fairy lights make an ethereal wonderland paired with gold-sprayed branches, tealights in a motley crue of old glasses sourced for a steal in charity shops as centrepieces, and lace curtains as chair covers, perhaps dyed black for a Gothic glam feel, bundled up in a bow at the back, and sheaves of corn for a summer wedding (a symbol of fertility) - none will break the bank but will finish your wedding off in high, unique style.

KATE AND WILLIAM: Let battle commence!

I suspect I am going to be ridiculously upstaged as a bride next year...

But once the initial swoon - romance is alive! Marriage is still relevant! Hurrah!- had worn off, and the taciturn grumps firmly set in as a kindly friend sent a 'Looks like Kate and Wills are going to beat you to it' missive, my inner bride finally kicked in. And personally, I am taking it as a bon mot for upping my game: I would encourage all other brides of 2011 to do the same. If in doubt, always think 'what would Carrie and co. do?' and the answer will invariably be fabulous.

Yes, Kate will get a lovely big central London pile rent-free as part of her trousseau - even though she remains resolutely unemployed besides tinkering with Pritt Stick and paper chains for her parents party pieces company (don't tell the Tories, they'll have it off her in a twinkling).

There will probably be manifold dressmakers, ritzy jewellers, little old artisan lacemaking ladies at Chanel's Metiers des Arts all hankering to create her wedding outfit scott free - and Lanvin on speed dial. But as a future queen of England, not for her the even mildly sexy or adventurous, and certainly nothing befitting a style statement (unless you count Princess Di's epic train, or literally half of a very puffy dress on each shoulder).

And she can forget a remotely 'intimate' wedding - every crusty archduke and long distant (possibly inherently inbred) cousin in her realm will have to be invited. Most of us only have to concede to the odd over-affectionate uncle, dotty grandma or cousin with er, behavioural problems.

If you were ever going to have to go through the rigmarole of being a royal bride, one of the only true, coolly irreverent inspirations that should be looked to is Princess Margaret. I'm even surprised she didn't go down the aisle with an ubiquitous fag jammed in her saucy pout, and a knowing wink. 'The buccaneer bride' has something of  a ring to it - don't you think?..

*Though admittedly Kate's sapphire whopper is beautiful. Pah.

Gimme Shelter: The hunt for a venue

We've spent the weekend caked in peaty mud, and sometimes something suspiciously worse.

I say this not just as a comical anecdote: but the quest for a home for our wedding has seen Mr McCorry and I tramp around potential venues that looked to marry up nicely with our ideals (and some not so, but to please the parents we've had a look at some admittedly lovely Georgian piles) and thus through some very, very boggy fields in the hinterlands of Kent.

Given that we decided to look at this particular weekend past so that we could get the closest notion of how the settings would look in this gilded season of mists and mellow fruitfulness  that we plan to marry in - and yes, it is all ravishing shades of fire, russet and gold - we should perhaps have put trench-foot into the equation. Thus I will be the welly-wearing bride (I wonder if Louboutin do some? Marcasite rhinestone encrusted perhaps?), or perhaps I could bring back the patteen...

But, mud wrestling aside, we have learnt some very important lessons (and fallen in love twice) in the course of the past three days. And dear reader I'd like to share some sage tips with you...


1. Tales of the unexpected: I fell in love. With a barn. Exasperated by futile viewings at other venues that boded to be all that we hoped for, but in reality were often sorely lacking in the character and soul department, we had to rethink our strategy. A wildcard bolt to a lovely bucolic village just ten minutes from my parents home (and yet which I never knew existed) turned up a corker - a magnificent, bewitching 13th Century tithe barn, all bleached oak beams soaring into the rafters giving the appearance of an upturned galleon - which Toby loved, given his maritime leanings - tumbling hops and strung bulbs. Pity the fact then, that it is booked up until 2012. A lesson was learnt though - go and look at the rebel venue, the one waving its kooky flag with pride. It just might surprise you.


2. Don't fear the blank canvas: We increasingly found we didn't want every last detail trussied up and sorted for us like some mad aunt had been at it with a taste for botox, carnations and glitter. Ultimately a marriage and wedding are yours - highly personal, full of quirks, foibles and what make you special as a couple. Some venues are open to requests or negotiation, but will stand firm on the key aspects (and so perhaps they should - equally for a wedding venue to be right for you, it has to be right for them and what they pride themselves on - if you're trying to move too many mountains, you're probably not in the right topographic realm). Besides, quite what the heck a toastmaster is anyhow I don't know, unless you're planning on having crumpets. Which could be nice.


3. Do fear the Taxman: upon our return journey, I started to do some vague sums having been highly taken with the heady history and unabashed majestic rock n' roll of Penshurst Place - just outside of Tonbridge - and suddenly thought of the worst three letter acronym known to man. VAT.
In our madcap dash around the wilds of Kent seeking a venue, only one declared in print that their price was not inclusive of VAT, yet almost all of them on re-analysis had neglected to draw attention to this very costly fact. That VAT is rising to 20% next year should be a spur to all couples hoping to marry over the next few years - pay it all, up front now if you can or plead with your venue to accept the VAT with a deposit at this year's rates, while the VAT is admittedly nasty, but not as crippling as it is going to become.


4. Adopt a 'Marrakesh' attitude: Not as bananas as it sounds, but generally I found that when liaising with venues over the particulars (and especially if you are on a budget and they are doing their best subtle up-selling skills on you) smile and say no firmly - it works as well as it does on the crazy streets of Marrakesh - as it is kind and tolerant, but conveys your feelings with aplomb.


5. Count your blessings: Before you even start the quest for a venue, significant discussions need to happen - generally, due to the cost of a registrar (£400+) to validate your marriage, it is considerably more cost effective to marry in a church, temple, or the building of faith that at least one of you holds - or registry office. I was surprised by Toby's open-mindedness to a church wedding - though he is by far and away the most tolerant gentleman I know. He qualified with the irrverent fact that he hadn't spontaneously combusted on entering our village church, which made me love him even more. With said talk having happened, you can look to a wider range of venues for a reception, and save four hundred pounds for some superior champagne. Whoop!