“You may now kiss the bride…”

What is going on with the world? As the 14th of February approaches it seems everyone goes marriage bonkers. A couple said “I do” in Birmingham yesterday after winning a radio station competition. Innocent perhaps, mad more like it… the daft nutters met immediately before striding down the aisle. No amount of media coverage and dirty royalties would entice me into such a recipe for disaster. The groom described himself as a ‘Will Young look-alike”. If the photos are anything to go by, he has some serious eyesight issues. Gawd help you both.

Will Young, rest assured – you still have the goods. Sure, you and the groom in question both have eyes and ears – but the similarity ends there honey.

A quick search on the Internet produces even more evidence that Londoners are going mad for locking lips and signing themselves off to their chosen ‘one’. Over the next two weeks, The National Wedding Show, the Asian Wedding Exhibition and The Designer Wedding Show will bombard the city. Quick… get your cash out, mortgage that house, sell your kids (and your soul) and get yourself some Vera Wang wedding gear.

A cynic? Yes. Boycotting all things romantic this Valentine’s Day? Definitely. That is… I was until this morning.

In a fit of 8.55am madness I headed to Leicester Square and, in front of the pigeon brigade, stressed out commuters and ogling tourists, I got married.

I didn’t wear white (but then again, you need to be pure for that malarkey). Anyway, black is slimming and my boy wouldn’t marry a sugar plum fairy look-alike. If I wanted a meringue, I’d head to the supermarket, buy one and eat it. Not wear the damn thing. Funnily enough, Asda are selling wedding dresses now. At ?60 apiece I guess you can’t go wrong… but taffeta isn’t my ‘thing’. Anyway, a former Gucci employee wouldn’t dream of marrying an Asda-clad lady. I’d be happy to hire a dress but if my boy gets his way, I’ll be in designer everything on my real big day. A Guiltier garter – get your teeth round that one baby!

Of course, my marriage wasn’t legit. As part of a lastminute.com promotion, I’ll be legally wed to my happy beau until the 14th of February. I feel like Cindarella at the ball. Minus the glass slipper and ugly ducklings of course.

Instead of a pumpkin coach we had a massive blow-up chapel, a pink limo and paid relatives. Handy when one’s folks are on the other side of the world. Even with pink champagne poured down our gills, we couldn’t muster the cheek to consummate our vows in the back of the pink automobile. Somehow, the pink balloons and gawking onlookers just didn’t set the scene for loving. Plus, no one wants to see my cheeks THAT early in the morning.

Married life is bliss so far. We parted at Charing Cross with a kiss and a wave and followed the tube tunnels of lurve… straight to work. No honeymoon, no reception… and a big, pink plastic ring on my finger. Jordan, eat your pink, fluffy heart out!

Mum will be so proud.