Then again, without all the noise - of Pinterest, of Instagram - where it’s easier than ever to pick up nuggets of inspiration from other people’s weddings - I do wonder whether things ever felt a little homogeneous. Back then, weddings were typically more prescribed: led by the venue, convention or parents rather than by the couples themselves. I suspect that many brides’ creative input amounted to choosing fabric chair sashes (organza or jacquard?) - not because they lacked ideas, but because tradition so often dictated.
I also suspect that, had we married in the 90s, my husband would not have done his fair share of wedding admin. For all the modern pressures around weddings, planning them has arguably become a more equal endeavour.
Thirty years later, I’m always delighted by the imagination my friends bring to their weddings: the creativity of the menu design, the eclecticism of the venues - an old railway station, a Sicilian villa. My parents didn’t seem to have anywhere near as much fun at weddings as I do now, perhaps because many guest lists were shaped by family obligations. Today, many couples have more freedom to invite who they please.
And yes, the algorithm left my head spinning - but it also made plenty of things easier. We could browse multiple venues in minutes. We found a florist we really liked without leaving the sofa. For me, it’s about using your feeds to your advantage, committing, and learning when to stop scrolling before decision fatigue hits.
The question isn’t “was it better in the 90s?”, but rather: what can we borrow from a simpler time?
Fashion-wise, the slip dress remains hard to beat. Natural make-up means you’ll look like yourself, not an Instagram filter. And leaving your phone in your clutch bag means you can enjoy the moment rather than document every second of it.
Simplicity doesn’t mean staid - it means celebrating the day for what it is, rather than sweating the small stuff. And dancing to Come On Eileen, which is still a banger.
@phoebeluckhurst