"We did it our way"

We were sitting on the sofa, surrounded by glossy wedding bumph, when my fiancée Isobel had a moment of clarity. “These people are thieves,” she said, tossing aside a brochure for Blenheim Palace advertising two wedding packages – a no-frills option for £16,400 and a standard for £23,900. “We don’t have that kind of money. Let’s set ourselves the challenge of having a lovely wedding for less than £5,000.”

I smiled encouragingly. It was late at night. Within a few hours, I thought, she would recognise this idea for the tomfoolery it was.

The next morning, however, Isobel was fired up. “I’ll do the catering myself,” she said over breakfast. “It will be a really characterful wedding.” I pulled out the Blenheim Palace brochure from my pocket. “But what about the magnificent setting?” I said, mournfully. “What about the after-dinner Belgian pralines?” She regarded me steadily. “We can do it,” she said.

According to the consumer watchdog Which?, the average cost of a wedding in the UK is around £17,000. Moreover, a recent report suggests that couples are being exploited when they tie the knot. “Hotels, florists and hairdressers are being really unfair,” says Lisa Barber, deputy editor of Which? Magazine. “They charge 25 per cent more for weddings than they do for other similar events.”

So how can you avoid being the victims of wedding mark-up? For us, it began with the venue. Isobel was determined to find an affordable alternative to Blenheim. I was sceptical. “We just need to think outside the box,” she said, “and find a venue which isn’t normally used for weddings.”

We began a tour of church halls in Winchester. These tended to be dusty, dilapidated affairs, more suited to WI coffee mornings than wedding breakfasts. I held on to the Blenheim brochure and searched the internet for 0 per cent interest credit cards.

Then we found it. Tucked away in the heart of Winchester was a desanctified, 17^th-century Roman Catholic chapel called Milner’s Hall. It had vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows and a large balcony; a bit rough around the edges, perhaps, but it had character. It could seat up to 130 – the exact size of our wedding party – and it only cost £20 per hour. We booked it. Total cost: £200.There was no going back.

Next we had to decide where to hold the wedding itself (a non-religious ceremony). This was harder, as the venue would need to have a wedding licence. The fee at extravagant venues such as Blenheim was between £2,000 and £5,000; our local register office, on the other hand, was affordable but overwhelmingly bland, and smelled of eucalyptus floor cleaner. For a while, we were stumped.

Then inspiration struck. In the UK, non-mainstream religious ceremonies are not legally binding. For this reason, Jewish people (for example) back up their big, traditional ceremony with a low-key affair at a registry office, usually either before or immediately after the main wedding, which is regarded as nothing more than a formality. What was stopping us doing the same?

We decided to hold the wedding ceremony in my grandparents’ beautiful garden, just five minutes’ walk from Milner Hall. My uncle agreed to conduct the ceremony, which we wrote ourselves. The setting would be idyllic (and the flowers were there already). We arranged a basic ceremony at the register office the following day. Total cost: only £43.50 for the register office.

It was time to send out invitations. After some discussion, we designed them ourselves and emailed them. Not only did this save money, but it was kind to the environment. We asked a relative to take photographs, which she agreed to do for free.

In the following weeks we purchased our outfits. Isobel bought her dress on eBay. It took her a few attempts to get it right, but as dud dresses could be sold on, it didn’t matter. Eventually she got hold of a beautiful ex-display wedding dress for £90.

For my part, I found that nobody will notice if you wear a cheap suit, provided it fits properly. Most suits are designed for men with paunches and look terrible on those who have not yet had the opportunity to develop one, so I went for “slim fit,” at Moss Bros and it was fine. My suit, waistcoat and tie came to a total of £180 (more than the bride’s apparel).

I was beginning to get into the spirit. Through a friend, I was introduced to a jeweller who would deal directly with customers at wholesale prices. He sold me two 18 carat rings for £700, a saving of around £400. Cheaper rings were available, but Isobel and I felt that it was best not to compromise on something that would last a lifetime.

Then came the difficult part: the dinner. We roped in a Hungarian au pair and three of her friends to serve, persuaded them to wear black and white, and paid them £600 for the day. We bought the wine and soft drinks from a local wholesaler, opting for the cheaper prosecco rather than champagne, as few people can easily tell the difference. This came to £750 with free glass hire. Our local brewery sold us a keg of Hampshire ale for £105, which we intended to tap and set up during the dance. The cutlery was hired for £300 from a local, family-run business called Crocks, and we managed to procure sufficient white tablecloths through Freecycle, for which we were charged nothing. Finally, at a car boot sale we bought 130 dinner plates, of all shapes, sizes and vintages, which had the twin advantages of providing colour and creating conversation pieces (especially the Charles and Diana wedding plate). The plates cost us just £10.

Our food strategy was to keep it simple and buy locally direct from the producers, which was also good for the environment. The only exception was the salmon and potato salad, which we bought through Waitrose Catering for £700. So we sourced strawberries and salad from a farm in Surrey (they also threw in some fresh flowers), local cheeses from a dairy, and bread and a mountain of delicious cupcakes from a bakery. This all came to around £450. For £100 we hired a refrigerated van in which all the food could be stored overnight.

Finally, we found a delightful man called Matt Benecci, who owns an ice cream tricycle. For £300 he came to Winchester and set up outside the hall, so that after the dinner our guests could leave the hall and eat delicious ice cream while the Hungarian staff set the hall up for the barn dance.

Yes, the barn dance. Not long after we sent out the wedding invitations, I was drinking at the best-known pub in Winchester, the Black Boy, where a folk band called Made Behind the Bar were playing. They were great, and the idea of a barn dance suggested itself. Barn dances are far simpler to set up than discos, and have the advantage of being a great leveller, since everyone looks equally silly. I hired the band, who played during the ceremony as well, at a cost of £650.

The total wedding cost was £5173.50. OK, so we overshot by a small amount. To our relief, the day went smoothly, and all our fears of glitches and omissions in planning proved unfounded.

There is an old Jewish joke about a man who wanted a completely unique wedding, so decided to have one in the desert. On the wedding day he sees a dustcloud in the distance and asks a local man what it is. “That?” replies the man. “That’s the Cohen’s wedding.”

It’s safe to say that not only was our wedding affordable and eco-friendly, it was also one of a kind. I – and the guests – will remember it forever.

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