We are gathered here today...to out-tack Stringfellow

It's coming up to a year since I became engaged. I say 'became'; it was completely my decision. I didn't wake up one day to find I'd contracted a fiancee. Let's just say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, so I tied her down before she reads any of these blogs and realises I'm a social retard.

With this wedding caper in mind, we recently visited a wedding fair (or possibly 'fayre', although it wasn't massively medieval) to get some ideas and generally frighten the living daylights out of me.

Let me make it clear, I'm not scared of the commitment or any other aspect of marriage. I just expected to leave all the details to her and get a text the day before saying "Church. 11am. Don't be too pissed". Sadly that is not to be.

What I really want to comment on though is the sheer level of tackiness that seems to make up a modern wedding. Back in the 70's, you picked a church, put pillars on your cake and had the reception at a local pub. Now, it's all subtle lighting, grand venues and soft-focus photography. And it looks shite.

I want my wedding to be a simple affair; friends and family, vows, bridesmaids who make you think you've made a mistake choosing the Mrs, speeches, telegrams, low-level racist uncles and a bit of dancing. However, if you gave any of these fly-by-night chancers the reins, you'd be up to your eyes in personalised balloons and leather-bound photo annuals before you could say "But that looks wank".

Every aspect of the wedding was covered, but the whole event felt shrouded in a tacky, over-sentimental film, where flying in by helicopter, sporting a rooster-style haircut and having 'mood' shots of the happy couple in black and white were par for the course. Sorry, folks, but that's not me (and happily not the Mrs, either). We're not going to be in OK magazine, nor are we the type of people who sport a tattoo bearing our children's names or a butterfly. We're simple, traditional people, so let's keep the wedding the same, eh?

I'm all for a bit of indulgence (one of my many ideas involves top hats and canes bearing the respective holders' football club crest) but I refuse to pose next to a Ferrari or look pensively into the middle distance as it tips it down and our relatives grow increasingly bored and begin to refer to us as 'pretentious twats'.

I think the only way I can guarantee that we don't fall into the trap these shysters are setting for us is to employ a simple test as we venture on this nuptial quest. Whenever we are faced with a difficult decision, be it suits, flowers or whether to black up the best man, we should quietly ask ourselves this:

"What would Peter and Jordan do?"