TWO years ago my partner and I got engaged in Rome. It was an entirely romantic affair with a chauffeur, violinist and a wonderful view of the Colosseum followed by an eye-wateringly expensive meal overlooking the Vatican.

Before landing back in Belfast, a wedding mania swept across both family and friendship groups. We were bombarded with questions about dates, venues, colour schemes, flowers, guest lists and bridal party selections.

Some people seemed utterly confused that we hadn’t immediately posted our good news on social media, and were almost offended when we would not indulge their speculative anxieties.

What fascinated me most was not the questions themselves, but the fervour behind them.

Sophie Clarke: Belfast cannot keep sacrificing its character for hotels and student accommodation

Tom Kelly: As DUP and Sinn Féin lose their shine, can UUP and SDLP capitalise?

A wedding, it turns out, is one of the few remaining events capable of turning otherwise sensible people into well-meaning consultants, each convinced their vision of the dress, the flowers, or the string quartet versus the wedding band, will make or break the day.

I have been thinking about this recently. Not because I am closer to choosing a venue, but because it has felt like déjà vu.

At the age of 36 I have the benefit of being an older bride, old enough to know that a wedding is not a referendum, and that not........

© The Irish News