I’m pretty sure that the cassocks of our local bell ringers are hiding some pretty ripped bodies and bulging biceps right now, given the amount of action they’ve had over the past couple of weeks.
June certainly has been a busy month on the matrimonial front. Claire from our Frome office and Kirsty, our new part-timer, both got married on the same weekend, while Penny ties the knot on the fourth of July (she’s chosen Independence Day because she enjoys a little irony).
The air has been filled with romance, excitement and not a little stress as the girls have made their final preparations, and it has been fun to watch their special days come together. Now it just remains for Penny to be married off and we’ll be looking around for the next victim!
If her wedding is as good as the reports of her hen day, then we are all in for a treat. Unfortunately, because somebody had to man the office, I was unable to join the party of hens who left Gillingham for Ascot early one morning, elegantly attired in posh frocks and fascinators ready for their day at the races, but I have enjoyed the anecdotes.
It seems that the day started with a champagne breakfast, which put the girls in the right mood – after all, it takes a little Dutch courage for a girl to part with her money with no shoes or handbag to show for it – and it ended with enough winnings to pay for more champagne, to console those whose nags came in last.
Penny, as the ‘mother hen’ was tasked with rounding up her chicks, who’d managed to find their way into the Royal Enclosure.
Fortunately she had, by this time, changed out of the clothing in which she’d been dressed by her friends earlier in the day; I can’t see the officials turning a blind eye to large pink bloomers, blue tights and a nightdress, given the stringent new dress code for ladies.
Apparently, one old chap even volunteered to help her on with her pink garter and she’d had enough bubbly to agree to let him.
And as for the ‘something old, something new and something borrowed,’ well, all I’ll say is that she drew a crowd
I wish all our Travel Angels heavenly honeymoons and hope their marriages are long and blissful.
Brits love Borat beachwear
Penny confessed that she had rather liked her voluminous bloomers and I got to wondering whether or not they might make a fetching bathing costume of the type depicted in all those saucy seaside cartoons. A recent survey suggests that they’d be in good company among other ‘swimwear blunders’.
Research undertaken by sunshine.co.uk, has revealed that the number one blunder belonged to those who insist on sporting Speedos, with the French the biggest culprits – one in three Frenchmen own a pair, apparently.
Yes, the old ‘budgie smugglers’ topped the list of people’s least favourite beach apparel, with 31% of respondents rating them as decidedly not the thing. I think this is a bit harsh, myself. On the right chap with a good wax and firm thighs, they don’t look half bad.
The birthday suit followed in second place, with one in five Germans admitting to indulging in a little nude sunbathing. Again, a good wax, a workout and a little polish could help no end.
I guess birthday suits are much like any others; the tailor-made Savile Row treat is a rarity, while a £19 one from Asda is more common, and you can forget about fit!
Listed among other seaside fashion mistakes was the mankini, with Brits the most likely to sport this. Instead of taking the lead from the buff and chiselled Daniel Craig, British men are choosing to follow Borat, presumably because somebody once told them the way to win a girl’s heart was to make her laugh.
Respondents also complained about animal prints and Peter Stringfellow-style thongs. All of which leads me to believe that we should never have ridiculed David Beckham when he took to wearing his sarong. He was just showing a little sensitivity, surely, recognising that some of us could do without the distraction of assessing whether or not a gent should have bought the next size up, or indeed down, when he purchased that micro swimbrief.
The key question to ask yourself when it comes to baring the flesh, is ‘would it upset my mother?’. Of course, the answer will depend on your mother, but you can count on her to be honest.
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels in Gillingham, Dorset
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