As soon as I got engaged last year, my phone seemed to know.
My Instagram was suddenly littered with targeted adverts for wedding dresses and my TikTok feed was full of advice on what expensive beauty treatments Imust get before the big day.
As if this wasn’t enough to make me throw my phone out of the window before I’d even started to look at potential wedding venues, I began to notice another trend: my social media was awash with those having not one, but two weddings.
Last week, singer Charli XCX and 1975 drummer George Daniel hosted a sun-drenched celebration in Sicily – just months after their first wedding at Hackney Town Hall, in east London.
And last month, Spice Girl Mel B tied the knot with hairdresser Rory McPhee in an extravagant three-day ceremony in Morocco weeks after they exchanged vows at St Paul’s Cathedral in London.
I can just about tolerate celebrities having two weddings, especially when they look as cool as Charli in her Vivienne Westwood mini dress. But my Instagram is dominated by fellow journalists and D-list influencers I have followed for years posting about their chic city registry office nuptials followed by a four-day ‘destination’ extravaganza in Spain or the south of France.
These were complete with not one, but two bespoke dresses (not forgetting the carefully selected welcome drinks and Day Two outfits). Not one but two make-up artists, one to capture the classic aesthetic of the London bride and another to portray her Mediterranean whimsy. Not one, but two hair stylists, drinks venues, florists, photographers, videographers… the list goes on.
Apparently, this has become the norm for modern couples.
Laura Connor got engaged last year… and noticed her social media was awash with those having not one, but two weddings
Last month, Spice Girl Mel B tied the knot with hairdresser Rory McPhee in an extravagant three-day ceremony in Morocco weeks after they exchanged vows at St Paul’s Cathedral (below)
In a tradition practically unheard of a generation ago (my parents got married in 1983 in a church near their house, followed by a reception in the local pub), one in seven now have their official wedding ceremony (paperwork and all) on a different day from their main celebration, according to research by wedding planning app Bridebook.
It also found that more than a third of Gen Z and Millennials, such as me and my new husband Stephen, are now planning weddings that span more than one day.
As if one celebration didn’t involve enough expense and organisation, a second or even third lavish occasion has become more and more popular.
It’s not just the couple who have to carry out the enormous administrative task of arranging several events – guests are expected to fork out the time and money to watch them say their vows and cry at just the right sentimental moments twice, and hear double the number of heartfelt speeches.
For me, this isn’t a symbol of a couple in love wanting to celebrate their union with their nearest and dearest; it’s a symptom of the out-of-control wedding industry heaping pressure on people to have an ‘Instagram-perfect’ day (or three).
These excessive, self-absorbed events don’t seem to be about creating loving memories for the couple and their friends and family to cherish for decades to come, but about curating the best content to show off on social media.
And it’s not just multi-day ceremonies that are the problem. The wedding industrial complex has normalised huge, weekend-long hen dos (often abroad) – and don’t forget the ‘pre-hen’ night out in a city (that’s at least another £150 down the drain). Then there’s the ‘mini-moon’ to a European resort, followed by the full-blown honeymoon to somewhere far-flung and exotic.
I would never resent anyone for having the wedding they’ve always dreamed about that’s within their means and budget. If that’s what you want to spend your money on, good for you.
And no-one should feel obliged to have several weddings (or hen dos, or honeymoons) if that’s not what they want. But the rise of the Instagram wedding has made it feel as though everyone is doing it, and so should you – piling ever more pressure on a day that should be the best of your life, not what lookslike the best day ever to strangers on the internet.
It feels like money has become the defining feature of modern weddings, without any consideration for the amount it costs guests – especially if they’re single.
Wedding guests are spending more than £2,000 a year on average, according to research from the Money and Pensions Service – with travel and accommodation accounting for the biggest costs, followed by outfits and gifts.
The consumerist wedding machine has hijacked what is supposed to be a simple and meaningful demonstration of togetherness into something altogether alienating.
But maybe I am part of the problem.
Last month, we got married in Ireland, where my partner is from and most of his friends and family are based, not London where we live. I felt guilty about the time and cost of dragging my side across the Irish Sea. We also had a few drinks at his local pub the day after, mainly because a wedding ‘Day Two’ is a big Irish tradition (and I could then justify my friends making the journey… or so I told myself).
And did I put it all on Instagram? Absolutely!
