If you have never heard of ‘Don’t tell the Bride’ and you’re a Groom-to-be a Best man or an Usher, it’s cheesy Guilty Pleasure telly at its most ace. It’ll give you an insight into the wacky wedding world of traditional expectations and zero’s being added to usually reasonably priced objects such as cakes, flowers and dresses. The raw, masochistic genius of the show is that the Bride has no say whatsoever and the Groom is gifted 12 grand to cover all of the expenses.
Two numpties are funny. One half sensible person and one numpty is TV gold. Throw in a sprinkle of controlled freak a dash of ‘under the thumbness’ and a splash of being let of the leash, a drop of high maintenance and carnage almost always ensues. More often than not the guy is either a Peter Pan type who does not want to grow up; he’s had his manhood tightly gripped by his girlfriend who has more control than Heathrow’s Air Traffic Control Tower or he’s just a typical bloke who has always avoided the wedding industry with all the shrewdness of a Fox avoiding the ‘Tally-Ho’ brigade.
The oblivious Bride-to-be chooses the dress she would have picked and the venue she would have ideally chosen. Like Mr Jim Bowen’s classic TV Darts show Bullseye. She sees what prize she could have won. “A perrywinkle blue Europa Classic 2 berth Caravan and a Racing Green Speed Boat.” The Groom-to-be has the easy tasks of picking a theme; the rings; ceremony venue; a wedding breakfast venue; wedding bar; catering; her dress; a Hen Do; Stag Do; Invitations; Photographer; Band; Groomsmen’s suits; Bridesmaids dresses; make up; hair dresser and transport for the Bridal party to the wedding venue. What on earth could go wrong? Simples…
There are a few gems over the episodes that I have seen. One groom arranged for his fussy, obsessive, high maintenance, image conscious fiancé to have her make-up slapped on, her hair preened professionally on the wedding morning and then plonked a motorcycle helmet on her bonce, popped her into a side car and she was taken for a ninety minute spin to her wedding venue in the drizzle. Another legend took his sea and sand hating fiancé on a boat out to sea to an island off the coast of Devon. Wait for it, she was piloted to the island in a rescue boat which actually saved her from being drowned on the worst day of her life a year previously. Take a bow that man, tip of the hat to you.
In a nutshell
It’s a Cold War power struggle. Chances are high that a Bridezilla or a velociraptor of a Mother in-law will rear their murderous heads from below the parapet; there is almost always tears before bedtime and 9/10 times he will balls up the wedding dress and pick a theme that he would never have the bottle of choosing if he was within groin punting distance.