Can you hear those church bells ring...?

I bloody well can. This May is a rather busy one for the usually anti-social, 'I'm tucked up in bed by 9pm' sort of twenty year old that I am. 

I like a good routine. I don't like change and I certainly don't like socialising. I also don't like weddings. They are too merry for my liking. I also rarely know anyone at social events and spend the majority of my time wishing I hadn't gone to the bother of shaving my legs or ordering a dress that I will probably never wear again and instead wish I was curled up on the sofa with a mug of hot coffee and a codeword puzzle. Such is life.

This May, Richard and I have been invited to no less than three wedding receptions and one full blown wedding in Wales (we would have attended another in Cuba if we hadn't been the poor suckers we are, instead we are settling for the Land of Sheep). This brings about a dilemma. Not only does this mean I am going to have to go and get a whole new personality of someone who likes dressing up, going out and socialising with people, I am also going to have to get some sort of new outfit. Who knew social events could be so strenuous. 

I must sound like the biggest grump that ever lived but I can honestly only think of only three 'nights out' I have enjoyed. The first was a surprise birthday party I attended and ended up drinking three bottles of red wine to myself, fell out of my Dad's car and nearly cracked my head open while throwing up in a toilet. Not my finest hour. The second was Richard's mates leaving do when I ended up getting rather merry on a mixture of beer and cider and ended up busting some moves on the dance floor to footloose in front of the entire club with my friend. That was probably my finest hour. The last one was at Richard's Aunt's joint birthday where Richard and I drank a little bit too much and busted some truly awesome moves on the dance floor and Richard ended up ripping his trousers and I tried a strategic chunder in the courtyard. Classy. Those are the top three I would say and they all involved vomiting in some form or other.

I blame my family for this although we are all as bad as each other. They hate socialising and if anything I am the best out of all of us which is worrying.

I am however fortunate enough to have Richard by my side for each ordeal. Which only leaves the question of what to wear for such a posh occassion... 

One | Two | Three

One | Two | Three

Anyone that knows me well (I'm looking at you Mumma Rust) will be looking at some of those dresses and think I've gone utterly mad. 

I should not and do not wear anything of a cream/nude/beige nature. I can count on one hand the number of things I own that fall into that category (it's two by the way). It's not because I don't like them or it doesn't suit me, it is simply that I am an absolute child when it comes to staining my clothes. I am the sort of person that will turn up to dinner at someone's house, find out they are serving spagbol for dinner and have to ask for a tea towel to cover my outfit... and even then I will still get a stain on my previously pristine outfit. It is a big no no. 

However I am willing to risk it for a wedding as I feel as though turning up in a garish or solemn colour may set the wrong tone. I also don't wish to draw any more attention to myself than is necessary.

What dress will make the cut? Better watch this space to find out...