A couple more tiaras that made this week. The photos are a bit fuzzy, because my little Ixus isn't good at close-up stuff, but you get the idea.

So said Kevin Marks yesterday when I mentioned that I've decided to make my own tiara for my wedding. (This is Kevin's blog, but not only has he not blogged for two months, he's not replaced his CSS either, so his blog is 'naked'. For shame, Kevin!)

Kate came up to London yesterday, so we went to the Bead Shop in Covent Garden and I bought some beads and Alice bands, wire and snout-nosed pliers and got very excited about the idea of making something. I like making things. My Kevin goes for walks in mountains to clear his head; I make things.

So I got home and had about half an hour before Kev and I had to go out, within which I managed to knock up most of this:



We got back relatively early, so I finished it off, and started a second one, which I finished today:



I have to go to the Covent Garden area tomorrow, so I'm going to pick up some more Alice bands and beads and make a few more. It's surprisingly easy, and it means I can play with different styles and designs until I find one that I really love. I'm using glass beads for these, but the real thing will probably be Swarovski crystal and garnet.

I've also spent quite a bit of time over the last month or so making lace. I learnt how to when I was at middle school, and over the years I'd pick it back up again, just to make sure I still could. About 5 or so years ago, I bought a some new bobbins and a cushion, and I dug those out from storage in my parent's attic last time I was home. I've spent quite a few evenings since making samplers to firstly get my old 'chops' back, and secondly see what sort of lace I might like on, say, oh, a wedding dress.



Yes, the plan is for me to make the lace to trim my wedding dress, although I am still short of an affordable dress-maker, so still in a bit of a stress about that. Need to make more phone calls.

I'm also going to make my own veil. Frankly, it looks like a pretty simple job, and I'll have fun decorating it and making it all look pretty. But given that a nice tiara can easily cost around £100, a veil £100 - £150, and I hate to think how much it would cost to buy hand-made lace, I think I'm better off spending a bit of time making stuff.

Besides, I'd forgotten how nice it is to make things, rather than obsessively refresh Twitter every 30 seconds.

Bit by bit, I'm getting on top of my wedding plans. We've got the venue confirmed and have paid the deposit. (Actually, we did that ages ago but I never quiet got round to blogging it.) We got the gorgeous Canford School on a Saturday in February, which was possibly the biggest stroke of luck we've ever had - someone else dropped out just as we were booking. Otherwise, if we'd wanted a Saturday we'd have had to wait til December 08, which would have been a bit long, really.

We've pretty much decided to do our legal obligations to the state on the Friday and then have whatever kind of a ceremony we want on the Saturday. We're still really hoping that Kevin's cousin can officiate. He's a Lutheran minister and it's always been Kevin's wish that he be involved, and I'm really happy with that - it's just a matter of whether he can come over to the UK on a weekend during Lent. Still waiting to hear about that. If not, then we'll have to contact the Humanists.

I have also solved the issue of what sort of cake I want, although not yet who will make it. Traditional wedding cakes are just so boring - great big blobs of marzipan and icing that entice me not. Instead, I'll be having... go on, guess... yup, chocolate! But I'll have it covered in gold leaf to spruce it up a bit.

But most excitingly, I think I might have found a solution to the Dress Problem. I went trying on dresses with Kate over Easter, and it wasn't the best experience. I tried on about eight dresses in two shops, and the assistants were friendly enough, but nothing really inspired me. None of the dresses were really what I wanted and some of the whiter ones even made me look dead. Really, certain shades of white make my skin look blue. However, I think I may have found someone to make my dress for me, but I'll know for sure in a couple of weeks when I've met her and talked about what I want. I'll blog in full then.

Still need to find a medieval band for the evening's entertainment, though, which is going to be my next big task. Already have some websites to look at, but if anyone has recommendations, let me know!

When I found the flat that Kevin and I currently call home, I remember thinking how well positioned it was. Waitrose only 5 mins away. Holloway Road just 10 mins away. And a gym literally on the corner, just a short walk away. We moved in and promised each other that we'd join up to use the leisure centre really soon. Really, really soon.

Then came the uncertainty of whether Kevin would be able to stay in the UK after things at the BBC went south. Then there were a few months where I was travelling almost all the time. Then things went mad with ORG. Then Christmas came...

But today, finally, Kevin and I managed that taxing three minute walk to the end of the road, negotiated the very dangerous and fearsome road crossing, and found our way into the leisure centre. We thought we'd have to book a time to join up, but they did it all there and then so now we are the proud owners of two gym memberships. We have our induction sessions tomorrow. It's only taken us a year and some change to get our act together.

Of course, I'd by lying by omission if I didn't admit that the main reason I'm joining the gym is to use the bike machines so that I can lose a few inches from round the waist area, prior to that, y'know, small event in February. If I can get rid of 4 inches over the next six months, I'll be happy. Five and I'll be delirious.

Unfortunately, I don't really have appropriate footwear for going to the gym. We went to an alleged sports shop to try and get a pair, but it was much more about sports fashion and the shoes there had little to do with actual sports. Took a trip to Islington, on the assumption that there was bound to be some decent shops there, but sadly was totally wrong. So now thinking about turning up to the induction tomorrow in my Adidas and hoping no one notices, and then going to a decent shop in town on Monday in order to get some shoes. Or maybe I'll have to go back to the alleged sports shop and buy the one pair of shoes that looked as if they might actually support my feet during training.

Either way, plan is to go to the gym at least three times a week, if not every day. Really do need to crack on with burning some calories, else I'll still look all podgy come The Big Day. And we can't have that.

I had an email yesterday from journalist Elaine Pearson asking:

I'm currently putting together a piece for the family magazine Take a Break called The Great Wedding Rip-off about how some businesses seem to go in for a spot of wedding inflation. As soon as they hear the W word their prices go up.

I was wondering if you've come across anything like this in your preparations at all.

Well, I've seen a lot of high prices, yes, but I've not really seen people bump prices up as soon I mention the W word, mainly because I've been too up front about it. I've said 'wedding' immediately, and so the only prices I see are those that take the W word into account.

Anyway, I've just had a lovely chat with Elaine, who kindly listened to me rant about how expensive weddings are, and I promised to blog this in case any of you have experienced wedding inflation yourself. If you want to talk to Elaine about it please email her as soon as possible - I believe her deadline is pretty soon.

It's amazing how much of the stuff that needs to be organised for this wedding hinges on one thing - the dress. Whilst I still haven't entirely solved the dress problem yet, the shape and form of that problem is resolving in my mind, along with little fragments of the answer. I now know, for example, the colour scheme... Or at least, I think I know. I suppose I might still change my mind.

This makes it easier to start thinking about stuff like stationery and table dressing. Last night I spent a happy few hours looking at a DIY wedding stationery site that I was told about by a colleague of a friend at Nature after I mentioned my wedding in passing at the end of a meeting. He produced a business card from his pocket and mentioned that one of his family members runs it - and it's a neat little site. (URL to come when I'm on a real computer. I'm writing this on my phone.)

I had so much fun looking at the different styles of invitation - some of them are really lovely, and it'll be fun to print them out and put them together ourselves.

Then Kate pointed me to a site that does candles, so that provided another happy diversion as I thought about how to make the tables all look pretty. Then there's organza bags and sugared almonds for the favours. So much to look at!

I have to admit, right now I feel more excited about the stationery than I do about the dress. But then, I've always had a thing for stationery, and dresses have always left me cold. Maybe it's just a geek thing.

It's fairly obvious to anyone with half a wit that organising a wedding is a relatively involved thing. You are, after all, organising an event for some 60 - 100 guests, (or more... or less), and that takes a bit of doing. But one thing no one really needs is complications, yet there are complications galore. And I'm not talking about the wrinkles introduced by marrying one of them thar dratted furriners.

Nope, what's turning out to be a right unholy mess is the fact that we want a mixed atheist/Christian wedding and in the UK, you can either have a religious ceremony in a church, or you can have a non-religious civil ceremony in an approved venue, but by God, never the twain shall meet. Oh no, you can't have a slightly-religious ceremony in a civil venue - that's not allowed. And whilst apparently you can add to your vows, individual registrars get the final say on what is said.

I have to say, I am a little dumbfounded. Kevin and I want a ceremony that really means something to both of us, but the fact that I am strongly atheist does mean that a church wedding would be inappropriate. Yet I want Kevin to have a ceremony that respects his beliefs, so a fully civil ceremony is also inappropriate. We want to meet half-way, but the State seems unlikely to let us - WebWedding.co.uk says "Legal civil ceremonies must be non-religious in content, so cannot include hymns, religious readings or prayers." Does this mean he can't invoke God in his vows?

If the level of control of what can and can't be said in a civil ceremony includes the prohibition of the word 'God', then I find that to be an interference too far. In fact, it's bordering on fascistic, and that's not a term I bandy about lightly. I accept that certain criteria should be set down by law and met by couples marrying to ensure that the marriage is a true legally binding agreement entered into openly and with due solemnity by each party, but this stark prohibition seems to me to be going too far.

Of course, we could have a humanist wedding, or even a ceremony totally of our own devising, but that isn't legally recognised in England and Wales, (it is in Scotland), so we'd have to do the legal bit the day before in a registry office. It's absurd that, in this third millennium, we're not a bit more tolerant and forgiving of different viewpoints, and the fact that sometimes atheists and Christians fall in love and want to do things in a way that respects each other's beliefs.

We're going to have to talk to a proper registrar about what is and isn't possible, but I'm not holding out much hope.

Monday night, friend and engagement ring developer, er, I mean jeweller Nigel Lowe came round to have a chat about the silver model he made for us and which I've been wearing nonstop since Feb 15th. It's been great to have the model, to be able to get used to it and make sure it was the right size (which it is), even if it has been slightly odd wearing a very simple version of the ring with no stones in it - when one of my friends saw it, he didn't realise it was a model and tactfully said, "That's very subtle!"

Nigel and I discussed the changes he'll make to the design - including bringing the stone in slightly closer together and making it a bit less blocky and more curvy - and the detail of the decoration he'll add. He's taken the model and the stones back to his workshop in France and next week he'll have the actual ring cast in white gold. It will then be a matter of finishing the fine detail and setting the stones.

It's all very exciting! Kevin's friend Karina, who is Nigel's partner, will be going over to France after Easter and hopefully will bring back the finished ring with her. I don't know if it'll be ready in time for my birthday, but I'm hoping it will arrive not soon after.

I've never really been one for diets. Whilst, in many other ways, I could be described as a stubborn bitch, I lack the kind of will power that's required for dieting. There's a reason my personal blog is called Chocolate and Vodka, and it's got nothing to do with those words sounding nice.

But let's be honest. Contentment has taken it's toll, and I've spread out a bit in the middle. Mum'll laugh when she reads this as she's always insisted that 'middle-aged spread' was just a fact of life, whilst I've been busy insisting that it's a matter of stuffing your face less with chocolate and getting more exercise. Boot's on the other foot now, sadly, and it's time to do something about it.

Questions is, what?

I had a feeling towards the end of last year that I was acquiring more inches than strictly required, which was why I gave up sugary drinks for more than three months. Well, you can see my logic, right? All that sugar in all those cans of Coke has to go somewhere and it's not Marbella. Cutting it out would decrease my daily calorie intake and I'd maybe lose a bit of weight without really having to try too hard - wouldn't that be just peachy? Except, well, as you know, it didn't work. I just ate more chocolate instead.

Now, the equation I have to solve is pretty simple really - I need to consume fewer calories than I burn. And there are two tactics for achieving that: 1) consume fewer calories; 2) burn more. Easy.

But it'll be a severely cold day with a windchill factor of minus lots of degrees and a high risk of snow in hell before I start counting calories. I don't know how many calories are in different foods, and I'm just not interested in finding out. I'm certainly not interested in weighing out portions and sitting with a calculator trying to figure out if I'm up to some stupid allowance yet.

Instead, I'm trying out one thing that's just really simple, and something else that I'm in two minds about. Firstly, I'm trying to eat a lot more fruit and veg. Yup, it's that complicated. I'm going to try and eat a banana, a grapefruit, a clementine and an apple a day, with a salad, plus any vegetables that I have with dinner. I'm not going to cut out carbs or meat, so not going Atkins or vegan. Just trying to increase the percentage of my calories that I get from fruit and vegetables.

The second thing I'm doing is the Shangri-la diet, which attempts to reset the weight your body 'wants' to be so that you don't feel so hungry. The idea is that the body associates taste with calories and the tastier the food the more calories you crave so the more you eat. If you can dissociate taste and calories, say by taking a dose of 200 tasteless calories, with nothing tasty for an hour before and after, your body will start to feel less hungry. Or something like that.

Hunger is, actually, a bit of an issue. I never really used to be all that interested in food, never used to be a foodie, but Kevin's pretty good in the kitchen and he cooks up some really yummy food. So I eat more of it, and I'm used to eating more of it, so I get hungry when I don't.

There. It's all Kevin's fault. That makes it easier.

So I'm trying this Shangri-La diet to see if I can't just stop feeling so hungry. I don't know how much faith I have in it, but it's worked for my friend Kevin, (note: that's my friend Kevin, not my fiancé Kevin), so maybe it can work for me.

But that's only half the story. The other part of the equation is the exercise. I used to be quite good at doing Pilates every other day or so, and trying to keep vaguely in trim, but it's difficult to get back into it. I was just starting to hit a rhythm again before I had the operations on my arm and I had to stop. The wound has healed now, but I can't do anything strenuous with my arm for quite a while longer - not because it hurts so much now but because the 4 cm scar will widen and look crap. So I've put together a routine which avoids excessive use of my arms, and on Sunday I did my first half hour work out.

But I fear that Pilates alone isn't going to be enough. Oh no. I fear that something a bit more vigourous is going to be needed. Something involving... oh god... gyms.

And now, out with our dirty little secret. There's a gym about 100 yards away from this flat. We've been living here for a year. Ever since we moved in, we've been saying "Oh, we really must go to the gym. It's not expensive, and it's right there. We'll get an induction session booked in for next week."

I don't think you need me to tell you how may times we've been.

But next week - by the gods and the little fishes I promise - next week we are going to go and book an induction appointment. Next week we are going to pay up our membership and we're going to start going to the gym. Next week. We are.

Honest.

I have my eye on the bikes. That's what I want to do. I can't run, as I have two rather prominent impediments which tend to get in the way of such activities. But I can sit on a bike for half an hour listening to podcasts. Actually, This American Life is an hour long - even better!

So that's the plan. The plan is helped by the fact that I have a very clear idea of how I want to look in a year's time, but hindered by the fact that I am, at heart, a lazy old moo who likes her crepes on a Sunday morning. So I foresee an interesting ongoing struggle between old, bad habits and new, difficult ones. At least now I have a good motivation.

A couple of weeks after we got engaged, Kevin wrote a post about the 'wedding-industrial complex' - the commercialisation of weddings. Yesterday, I discovered the 'wedding dress industrial complex'.

My friend Kate came up to London, and I met her in Victoria armed with a list of bridal wear boutiques and stores, ready to try on some dresses. I have to admit, I'd had nightmares about this all last week. In one, it's the day before a 'party' and I still have no dress and I'm desperately trying to find a dressmaking pattern and some fabric in a dingy haberdashery. In another, I'm trying to find information about suit hire for Kevin. In another, none of the stores we visit will let me try on any dresses... oh, wait, that was reality.

For the sake of context, I have to explain that I don't like buying clothes. Kate usually has to accompany me: At the beginning of the day I explain to her what I need to walk away with at the end. She then forces me to shop until I've located everything I need, using the 'frog march' technique if required. I really do not like shopping - I find it demoralising, depressing, frustrating and too expensive. Partly I think this is because I'm very much a non-standard body shape, so nothing ever fits. Particularly dresses. I actually gave up trying to buy dresses about a decade ago, when I came to the conclusion that anything that fits over my bust is going to be like a sack over the rest of me, and anything that fits my hips and waist is not going to do up higher up. I have the same problem with blouses, actually, but the sack effect isn't usually quite so pronounced.

So I can't say that I was looking forward to yesterday's expedition. Luckily, Kate and I dined at Wagamama's ahead of venturing forth to the shops, so I managed to fortify myself with a large bottle hot sake. We had a fairly easy beginning - the two boutiques we sought out in Victoria were shut and 'by appointment only', and full of what looked like expensive wankery. One was full of 20s/30s style dresses, designed for stick insects with no bosom. Pretty easy to rule that out.

We then went up to Oxford Street as there are a whole number of places round there. I was curious to see what BHS offered, just on the off chance they might have something cheap but stylish which I could then spruce up myself (I'm a dab hand with a needle, as it happens). But the choice was limited and the designs pretty rank.

Then House of Fraser's 'Bridal Room' or whatever it was called. Racks of dresses, and lots of young brides-to-be squeezed into frocks that would make them look like every other bride there's ever been. An assistant came over and informed that we'd need an appointment, but that we could look if we liked. Gee, thanks.

It seems that there's some sort of secret bride club that I didn't previous know about that has its own etiquette and secret handshake that you have to just know. The assistants were immaculately dressed and aloof as you like. If you're name's not on the list, you're not getting in (to the fitting rooms). Whilst I had the assistant's attention, though, I asked how long it takes to get a dress made, and was informed that it would be about nine months, so I'm in time for the February wedding we've now settled on.

Nine months? What the fuck are they doing? Hand selecting the moths that will lay the eggs that will hatch the silkworms that will spin my very own personalised silk that will be hand woven into fabric to be hand dyed with specially selected yak spit and rare Mongolian orchid seeds? Given the price of some of the gowns there, though, I'd expect nothing less.

Kate and I had a look round anyway. We discounted an entire rail of 20s/30s dresses, designed again for the mythical Woman With No Breasts that so obsesses designers but which you'll rarely see walking down the high street. Most of the other dresses had the sort of high waist that makes me look as if I'm a galleon in full sail. Maybe it was just because we only saw them hanging on the rail, but they all sorta looked the same. I didn't see a single one that cried out to me 'You must wear me!'.

Meanwhile, in the centre of the room were a couple of girls being fussed over by mothers and friends and assistants, trying to shoehorn them into dresses that looked to be several sizes too small. There was precisely nothing notable about either of them, and I felt totally removed from that process, from the ... bride-ish-ness of it all. In fact, I felt so disconnected from it that I even walked out without looking at the tiaras, which frankly is unheard of. I love my sparkly baubles, I do.

We then went to Pronovia, who gave us possibly the most polite 'fuck off' I've ever had, plus a big - as in A3 - glossy brochure full of waifs pouting in white. Can't imagine I'll ever go back there, frankly. Haven't seen a thing in the brochure that entices me and, whilst the assistant was perfectly nice and polite, the atmosphere there was 180 degrees away from welcoming.

On then, wearily, to Berketex. I was expecting the same from them, too, by this point, but the assistant that spoke to us was actually friendly! Wow! She invited us to look at the dresses and there was actual, real human warmth in her voice. Most unexpected. Again, though, most of the dresses conformed to the same wedding standard, but I did see a couple that I would have liked to have tried on. I can't, however, see me being able to afford any of them, but if there's a shop I've been to so far that I would go back to, it would be Berketex.

Thence on to Selfridges. Their collection was in the basement, and they had possibly the least welcoming set-up of all of them which screamed 'You can't afford us so fuck right off'. At this point, my main need was to get to a pub where there was alcohol for sale, because I think if one more assistant had asked us to make an appointment I think I would have punched her.

Now, it's true to say that I've never been much of a 'joiner', but this sort of Cult of Smug Bridezillas is one I just want nothing to do with. I don't want to be fussed over by snooty assistants who look down their nose at you cos your budget's not high enough. Jeeze, some of those dresses cost the same amount as our entire wedding will cost.

And they all look the same. There were very few dresses worth a second look, and many of them are probably going to be way too expensive. In fact, the starting price for most of these dresses is £obscene. It's a dress you're going to wear once in your life, and whilst I appreciate that some girls want to do the whole fairytale princess thing, there are no alternatives for those of us who want to look nice, but don't want to have a hock a kidney in order to do so.

Of course, I could try traipsing round second hand shops, or look on eBay, but there's going to be a fundamental problem with that. The dresses are highly unlikely to fit me. I could, I suppose, go for one of these Chinese or Vietnamese tailors that will make you a dress to fit, but I'm uncomfortable with buying a dress that I'm not going to get to try on first.

So, what next? I suppose I will go back to Berketex, just to try a few things on and to try and understand what it is about these dresses that I don't like, and what are the details about the ones that are OK that distinguish them from the anonymous swathes of fabric hanging beside them.

Though there was one shop that piqued my curiosity on the way home last night. It's just round the corner from where I live and in the window they had an Edwardian-style jacket and skirt with matching parasol. Behind the shutters that they were closing I could just glimpse an unusual-looking wedding dress. I think I might just have to pop round there tomorrow and see what that's all about.

But I have to admit that I'm seriously considering instead hiring a dress from a historical costumier instead. Be much cheaper. I could get a nice medieval gown for £150.

Last Tuesday, as I was on my way up to Manchester for a conference, Kevin asked me to swing past Farringdon briefly. We met up at the tube station, and he produced from the depths of his venerable TedGlobal bag a small padded envelope. From this padded envelope, he produced a silver ring - the model of our engagement ring as made by our friend Nigel. It was very exciting, but as I was off to Manchester I didn't want to take it with me.

On Valentines Day, Kevin careful placed the stones in the model and sent me photos, just so we could get a feel for how it will look when it's finished.



I'm now alpha testing the bare model - wearing it on a day to day basis to ensure that it's the right size (so far, it does seem to be), and thinking about the user feedback that I'll give to Nigel. Obviously this will be an iterative process, drawing heavily from the ADoJ - 'Agile Development of Jewellery' - philosophy.



We're hoping to have a user focus group in March when Nigel's back from France and, with any luck, we'll be ready for beta testing, when will be ring is cast in white gold and the stones properly set, soon after that.

Of course, we won't go live til probably February next year, but I'll let you know what our developoment schedule is.

Thank you to everyone who has sent us congratulations. We've had so many cards, emails, IMs, Twitters, messages via IRC, Second Life and carrier pigeon. Ok, I made that last one up, but still, thank you all. I have so many emails to reply to, it's quite overwhelming, but in a nice way.

Overwhelming in not such a nice way is the search for a suitable venue. I just can't believe how much some of these places are charging - it's extortionate. When Kevin blogged about the wedding industrial complex he was talking about the US - here we seem to have the wedding rip-off instead. A piece on BBCi about a church guide to cutting the cost of weddings says that the average cost of a wedding is £17,000, whilst the hellish You and Your Wedding puts it at £20k. Jeeze. We could put a deposit down on a house with that sort of money.

The trouble is, being 35 I've had a lot of time to sit and think about what my ideal wedding would be. I always thought that I would want something simple - have the ceremony and the reception in the same place, and just have some nice food and lots of dancing. (Not a disco, though. Over my cold, dead body does a DJ get into my wedding. No, I'm thinking more like medieval dancing or maybe a barn dance.) My venue would be something with exposed beams, possibly an actual barn, and I'd have lots of friends and it would all be lovely and romantic and fun and memorable.

Trouble is, any venue that's got even the merest hint of character costs an arm and a leg. And a kidney. With an option on your firstborn too. I must have looked at dozens of websites by now, and I just can't believe how much some of these places want to charge.

One place we're considering, although I don't yet know the cost, is Canford School, but their Saturdays are booked up until December 2008, meaning we'd have to have a Friday wedding instead. I don't mind the thought of a Friday wedding, but everyone would have to have the day off work. Another place that looked promising until I saw the cost of catering was Larmer Farm Gardens, but they have a minimum charge of £2500 for catering, which frankly is a bit much. Another potential venue is Sopley Mill, although reports coming back via the grapevine are that, whilst they are cheap, their catering is not up to scratch.

It's enough to make you want to elope.

(Note to Mum: It's ok. We're not going to elope. At least, not without telling you where we're going first.)