My colleague sighed and said, "I seem to be at the age when all my friends are getting divorced." "That's funny," I said. "I'm at the age when all my friends are getting married."
On our fridge at the moment are 6 wedding invitations. And that is not counting the two I have been to in the last 6 weeks. It's wedding season in Hobart.
I love weddings, and am prone to tears during the ceremony. I was at one wedding where I cried more than the bride's mother. She had to hand me a tissue.
The wedding I went to last Saturday night was excellent. Apart from the usual wedding pleasures of watching the joy on the faces of the bride and groom, drinking sparkling wine, eating a nice meal, getting to know the people on my table and laughing at the speeches, this wedding had the bonus of spotting some of the best (worst) haircuts in Hobart.
I spent the evening fantasising about taking the microphone to start the ceremony for the Best Hair Awards. Starting with the minor awards. Most Faded Perm, Most Colours on One Head, Most Skillful Application of a Hair-Stying Appliance, Best Moustache, Bushiest Eyebrows and Furthest Receded Hairline. Then moving on to the Major Achievements.
The Best Mullet goes to(envelope please)... The Best Man. In recognition of his full Billy Ray Cyrus, short up front with cascading curls down the back.
The Best Female Mullet goes to... The Best Man's Wife. A complementary version of small tight curls, with blonde highlights in the long back bit.
The Best Female Hairpiece goes to... The Old School Friend on Table 9. She told me in the toilets, "I got this for me wedding last year. Bloody cost me three hundred bucks, so I like to wear it whenever I can."
The I-Can't-Believe-The-80's-Are-Over Award goes to.... The DJ. We will be interviewing the DJ after the ceremony, to find out how he gets his hair so high and feathery.
It was a wonderful night, and I caught the bouquet!