The First Dance

During the run-up to my wedding, the thought of an awkward shuffle across the dance floor to the dulcet tones of a Ronan Keating number was enough to wake me in a cold sweat. For many brides, this is the climax to a fairytale day: melting into each other's arms as you effortlessly glide across the floor signifying the ultimate expression of your love. I wish I could see it that way. But I couldn't. I've never been the performing type and seem to suffer an involuntary cringe response to such situations. The last thing I wanted was to spend my wedding day dreading my looming dance floor moment.



So what did I do? I buried my head in the sand. I got on with the wedding planning and tried not to think about it. But everyone around me seemed only too interested in the subject. The first dance has taken on a life of its own in recent years. I blame that Dirty Dancing couple. Since their wedding video went viral, YouTube has become a baiting ground for couples trying to outdo each other with ever more elaborate first dance performances.

"What song are you going to choose?" friends chorused. "I bet you're practising a routine - you two are the wacky kind of couple that would do that!" one friend even commented. Routine? While I loved the idea of breaking out some perfectly executed moves to the gobsmacked faces of my guests, I simply didn't have the luxury of time. Beyond running Wed Magazine, didn't I have enough to do with the small feat of organising the mother of all weddings on top of the crazy amount of appointments and socials a wedding seems to generate? And what's this about being a wacky couple?



I'd pretty much decided that we'd be a bit different by not having a first dance at all when our photographer brought up the subject. As I shook my contorted face in disapproval at the prospect, he said, "But it's such a great moment. Not only is it brilliant to capture photographically, it's the symbolic beginning of the evening celebrations when everyone will be gathered around the dance floor celebrating your togetherness..." I was silent. "Do think about it, that's all..." he said.

There I was again, thrown back into Ronan Keating's spine-chilling web. I definitely heard him. I knew the first dance should be a climactic moment. But I still couldn't picture us dancing freely and without dread. Four days before the wedding, I had a eureka moment. A dance-off. That would be fun. Brendan loved the idea and together we watched the infamous gay club dance-off scene in American Pie: The Wedding, wowing over Stifler's moves and working out which ones would work for our very own dance-off. A group text message was sent to the bridesmaids, best men and ushers with instructions to think about some moves - and a series of responses came back which ranged from unadulterated joy to unadulterated dismay.



Despite our best intentions to practise, the week was swallowed up in a whirlwind of last minute preparations. The day before the wedding, we decided on a track ('Maniac' from Flashdance) and, that evening, I spent my last night as a miss learning a few moves via my bridesmaids and YouTube (the lawnmower and the sprinkler FYI). My brain wasn't really engaged, let alone my feet. A tidal wave of other thoughts and emotions were rushing around my head right then. But that little bit of preparation was a whole lot more than the boys managed.

On the day itself, I didn't have a chance to think about my looming performance. I was enjoying each and every moment too much - that is, until Brendan turned to me towards the end of the wedding breakfast and said, "so what are we doing about this dance then?" A decision was hurriedly made to start with Brendan and I dancing - we chose Seth Lakeman's 'Lady of the Sea' to avert my cheesy shuffle worries - and then break into 'Maniac' for the dance-off.



And so it began. Guests crowded around the dance floor, with many standing on chairs and craning their necks to get a better view. And the strangest thing happened. I didn't feel nervous. We burst into a slightly jerky - and quite obviously unrehearsed - dance to the folky rhythm and guests clapped and laughed and filmed the action on their phones. Then the infectious beats of 'Maniac' took over and we broke away to join our support acts. Thanks to a last minute rehearsal in the portaloos, the bridesmaids did me proud and worked excellent lawnmowers and sprinklers. As for the boys, their performance was quite obviously improvised but undeniably hilarious.

Looking back, the photographs of those moments are my favourites. They capture a moment that perfectly reflects the fun, joyful - and beautifully bonkers - nature of our day. Though unpolished, out of time and littered with laugh out loud antics - to me, it was perfect.

words Rebecca Matthews


Copyright WED Magazine 2013