This was the amazing floral zsjoozsjiwhatsit we walked though. Um, ok…arch.
The flowers were beyond.
There was a harp! There were cherubim and seraphim too, but they were too shy for piccies.
There were artfully arranged seating facilities.
Anemones featured, as did…
…a glorious seafood bar. It stood NO CHANCE.
The unsurpassed floral displays made the antipasti look even more delicious.
La’m not ashamed to say rivers of this were drunk. Then babymakers were shaken vigorously on the dance floor, with lots of white people overbiting and a few Peter Garrett bodyjerks.
The harpist turned into a multi-instrumental sampling singing legend.
My glamorous cousin, la bride, wore a dress not dissimilar to this, but she looked far more beautiful in it than this Kardashi-clone.
And after a generous, gorgeous evening, we were all sent home with this. Which La needed. Big time.
Weddings are so happy. Because love is love is love.