stiff hair, nuptial extravagance & egyptian royalty

Gotta love E. When was the last time you attended a wedding where you received a happy pack at the end, comprising a hangover remedies?

What a winner. This bad boy had Essentiale, aspirin, tomato juice, a newspaper and nougat.

So, wow.

What an incredible wedding. E has set the bar: unanimously, we've all agreed that this wedding has set one helluva bar.

I mean, word on the high streets of Camps Bay was that the 'prince of Egypt was getting married.'
One could see the white marquee and engineeringly-sound platform that had been erected, on the mountain, this huge white party palace from the beach, so it really wasn't far from the truth since the couple lives in Egypt.

It was incredible. It took the whole day to get ready.

Let’s just talk about the hair for two and a half seconds.

Hair spray that increased our carbon footprints by 1000%, make-up artists who worked miracles, hair curlers, and lots of girlie giggly time. (Which the whole weekend consisted of – what a winner).

I opted for the ‘Katherine Heigl look’, where she had one of those high voluminous do's at some red carpet event.

Katherine Highgl I was, if we’re gonna be honest. She gave me a beehive. Seriously. My hair was about 5 inches taller than usual – interesting, not totally unlikeable, but this baby was not going anywhere with that amount of hairspray in it. Woke up the next morning with it still perfectly in place.

We felt like princesses, in our long elegant slate grey dresses, and our friend was a queen.

It was hard not to cry as she slipped on her amazing wedding dress. Yay for it not being a boob tube – it was layers of creamy chiffon, dottings of Swarovski crystals, and none other than Dolce & Gabbana heels.
She was an enigma. Not to diss other brides out there – because everyone looks like a dream on their big day of course– but E, I’m afraid, is the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.
Absolutely breathtaking.

Poen, C2, N, K and I were rather nervous to walk down this aisle – it was a long guy. Slippery and long, was this bad boy. It was set in a gorgeously old school church, and then we fraternised at the reception, photos and champagne all round.

The tent, set on this mountain cliff – had white couches on which to chill, a bar stocked with everything and anything, a view (and even during Earth Hour, and the lights were dimmed, looked beautiful), chandeliers and drapes, it truly was insane.

Each table was named after a destination they’ve been to together – and a little something about what they saw and why they loved it; while the menu for the evening was printed on the napkins.

The wedding planner was a hoot. In all the stereotypical ways one could envision of such a man.

We jammed pretty much all night long. To a live band, who did incredible covers of tunes for everyone – you know, Counting Crows for normal people; Earth Wind & Fire for Peas and parents.

It was such a good jol – because most of the people there were school friends, so it was one large reunion, boys and girls alike. All I wanted to do was jam with my mates, even though I was a single bridesmaid, I wasn’t interested in tonsil hockeying, I was interested in getting down at this bad boy with my friends.
Then the dapper couple went off with their tins flowing behind them, onto Argentina for their honeymoon.

Yesterday was spent with my family – the only free day I had really. It was my grandfather’s 89th birthday party, so I got to spread the love of the Beehive That Wouldn’t Die beyond wedding borders, severely smoky eyes and one helluva hangover with my cousins, dad, uncles and aunts at Grandad’s little shindig.

Bless.

I need to fucking sleep.