Of weddings and hair dos

Tuesdays and Thursdays are very much the days here on which to get married. Around the corner are a plethora of hairdressers, each one dedicated to creating the most imaginative and amazing hair style. The photographers and the video makers follow the bride around, from bedroom to breakfast and hairdresser to make-up artist. They await in a bored gaggle outside the beauty salons while the brides-to-be, in their jeans and t-shirts, have their hairs teased into (sometimes) the most outlandish of coiffeurs. Indeed, the entire hairdressing salon in question is devoted to that one wedding and all its experts (or not) are busy washing, blow-drying and teasing hair to curl or brushing it to the brilliant most-wanted sheen.

I've often wondered why on earth a bride would want to have her day followed in this manner. Who really wants to see her hopping out of bed into the shower and then followed from teeth and sweatsuit, to the moment that she steps into her dress and then out of the salon, fully loaded, to have the rest of the photos taken?

And then what do the photographers do? Where do they take the happy couple - for it is the happy couple together before the wedding - for the photos that will be a piece of history in a hard back album? Over the road to the beach, dragging the poor dress behind. Woe betide if it's a windy day. I've often seen the poor bride vainly attempting to keep her hair-do in one place (notwithstanding the inordinate amount of hair lacquer that's been hosed onto it) and the dress from blowing all over the place. The groom's fine. He's in his suit. Not too much can happen to him. Then there's the other venues: next to a large green waste bin because the photographer feels that there's 'art' in common street furniture, or standing on the steps in the ancient port while the sellers are tidying up their wares around them. I suppose it's all a matter of taste.

The cars are pretty jolly though, often decked in purple ribbons attached to door handles, boots and bonnets. I saw one today: a black Caddy, almost entirely decked out in pretty blue ribbons, all tied in bows. The groom and his best man sat in the front of the gleaming saloon and the bride, tottering out of the hair salon, along a white satin rug, on her extremely high heels and clutching at her dress and the ornaments on her head, attempted to make her way into it. I don't know how she did it. I think that she went in head first because all I could see after her first effort was a large white confection, not unlike a shiny merangue, topped off with a glossy crown.

And talking of weddings, I wonder how they do them throughout the rest of the world?