Our intimate London Legals

6 August 2021 In Relationships, Wedding By Ainsleigh Brandler

If you were to tell me that I would end up getting married with 36 hours notice in a not so regal registry office, moments before lockdown 2.0 and wearing a knee length ASOS next day delivery number, I would have laughed and said :“Not this princess. She’s planned her white wedding for years”.

Often, life doesn’t go according to plan and those moments that knock the wind out of our sails end up being the ones we look back on with the fondest of memories. So what do you do when your wedding gets postponed, your venue liquidates, lockdown looms and you face deportation as a consequence of not tying the knot stat? You put your big girl knickers on, facetime your family and gather your closest friends to make your “London Legals” the most unforgettable day ever. Read on to see how I got legally hitched on a whirlwind whim…

As a South African who traded a small town for the lights of London, I’m no stranger to bureaucracy and visa issues. After hustling a way to stay in London after my studies, I went on to meet my husband Mike on Bumble. We got engaged a few years later on a breath-taking safari in my hometown. We set off on a year long backpacking adventure which saw us gallivanting to 18 countries, and planned our big white wedding every chance we got. From choosing the venue virtually, picking our world class florist on IG and securing my dream couture dress in a posh Houston boutique, life was going swimmingly. And then covid hit…

We made a narrow escape out of Peru and I headed to South Africa to apply for a UK Fiance Visa. Unbeknownst to us, travel bans saw me locked in my hometown for 6 months and we had to postpone our big day. My visa was finally granted and I took a repatriation flight back to my love in London. The conditions of my stay were that we had 6 months to marry (on paper). Not ideal but totally doable.

We made our way to Southwark Registry Office to give our notice of intent. After hours of paperwork and a vigorous interview to make sure we were not a sham, our notice was given and proudly displayed for all and sundry. My ex-boyfriends had 28 days to object to the nuptials, should they wish. Just a few days later, our venue ceased trading. Our postponed wedding was now officially cancelled. We were back to square one.

The UK goes into lockdown 2.0…

Weeks later while we were making our way to meet some work colleagues, our train journey was interrupted by BBC Breaking News. The UK would go into lockdown at midnight on Wednesday 4th November. All weddings would be foreseeably banned. I burst out crying as Mike’s colleagues extended their handshakes. Talk about first impressions. I just couldn’t fathom being separated again.

On Monday evening, we called the registry office to see what could be done. The staff were working night and day to get as many couples hitched before lockdown (in less than two days time). It was quite literally a conveyor belt of lifetime commitments. Knowing our situation and that my visa was very, very finite, they stated they would marry us on Wednesday evening. Or in 36 hours time. It also just so happened our notice became effective that very day and all going to plan, we would be hitched in the nick of time. We had one shot, and we needed to take it. Right, let’s book it. Mike declared.

Hyperventilated and furiously wiping away tears, I landed in a dramatic heap on the floor. I hadn’t even begun my wedding diet. Mike was desperately trying to soothe me. He explained that it would be as simple as signing a lease. We wouldn’t make a big deal of it and if we chose, we could do it in secret. I called my parents back in SA and asked their opinion. Dad said it was a no-brainer and I needed to get hitched, while mom tried her best to get on a plane to stand by my side. Sadly we had to scrap that idea as there would be no flights back to SA. I thought of what my brother would say and in that moment it all became very clear. Alright, let’s do it I cheered as I got up from the floor and gave Mike a hug.

To the spa… stat!

The following morning, I looked in the mirror and was mortified. There were full blown stress spots erupting on my forehead. I ran up to Dermalogica and begged the beautician to do everything she could to get rid of my them. I broke beauty’s number one rule by getting a facial right before a milestone event. She squeezed my spots with shaky hands and I signed a waiver that I wouldn’t sue her for any adverse reactions.

Next, I bolted to a spa to get my nails done in the most bridal shade I could find – a nifty nude. It was the most painful experience as the manicurist gauged at my fingers until they literally bled. My phalanges were on fire but if I looked past the blotches of blood, they did look good. Next up was a speedy salon session with an unknown mobilhairdresser to get my regrowth sorted. I probably should have known it wasn’t going to plan when my hair turned cobalt. After sending a picture to Mike and him responding that it could be my “something blue”. I knew I was marrying the right man.

Then I scanned Blow.ltd and booked a make-up artist as fast as I could. – foregoing any trial and merely hoping for the best. Next, I tried on the ASOS dress I had bought via next day delivery and squealed when I was able to zip it up. I dashed into my local store to get some stockings and, too exhausted to go to La Perla for expensive lingerie, I settled on some pretty Primark panties in white. Not quite what I had in mind for my ravishing wedding night. Next up, I called my nearest and dearest and told them to make themselves available in 36 hours. They had a non-wedding wedding to attend.

The very last thing on my checklist, (which possibly should have been the first) was to call one of my favourite restaurants, The Folly, to host our 15 pax “reception” (and the only way we could legally eat a meal within Covid guidelines). The chef said he would make it work as they had so much stock anyway and would hate for it to go to waste through lockdown. It seemed like everything was working out for us. And then I got news that my aunt was actually in the air en route to London as she was emigrating. She would stand in proxy of my mom.. As she landed, bleary eyed from the long flight she realised she had nothing to wear. We dashed to the high street to find something appropriate (shhh – she was meant to be self-isolating)

Our non-wedding wedding came and went far too fast. The whole day was a blissful blur. Everything just fell swiftly into place. My besties got ready with me, which was totally illegal by the way. We laughed over bottles of bubbly and ate sushi to our heart’s content, all while stifling our giggles so the neighbours wouldn’t tell on. My parents were virtually perched on the cabinet in my dressing room soaking up all the action. Mike got dressed in his suit in the spare-room and entertained my aunt and his mum downstairs, filling up our champagne flutes on every whim.

The hair and make-up artist was exceptional and made me look and feel my best. My original florist had organised a bespoke flower crown for me to wear and the smell was delicious. Once we were all dressed and ready, I realised that Mike and I never did get to have an engagement shoot as we were travelling, and now we wouldn’t get a wedding shoot either. The bridesmaids snapped their fingers and within minutes we were taking beautiful pictures outside London’s stellar landmarks with not a soul in sight. Our pictures turned out better than I could ever imagine. Lockdown was looming and we hopped into an Uber where we had a nerve-wracking ride to the registry office. Rush hour traffic saw us very nearly missing our slot to get spliced!

The real deal

Arriving to our nuptials in the nick of time, we found ourselves sanitised and ready to do the deed. We stood in an ornate room, next to an intricate fireplace and lush draping curtains. Our two witnesses stood behind us, masked up and squarely 2 metres apart. It was all very formal, save for the two familiar faces peaking into the window from the shrubbery trying to get a good view. I had somehow failed to tell our registrar that the ceremony should go ahead in the most legal way possible, as this was just the paperwork day. There would be no need for soppy sweet sayings here. Now by omitting this minor detail, our registrar took it upon himself to make it the most romantic and heartfelt evening yet. We chuckled when we realised we didn’t have any wedding rings to exchange and we guffawed at the fact we certainly hadn’t prepared any vows! Mike’s hands were intertwined with mine and we looked at each-other with all the love in the world. It was really happening. We made some incredibly special promises to one another and it was only in that moment did we understand the magnitude of what we were saying and the lifelong commitment we were making. Tears streamed down our faces and it was one of life’s most beautiful moments.

As the book was signed and we officially became Mr and Mrs Brandler, we were whisked to our non-reception reception where our friends and the rest of our guests greeted us with illicit hugs and congratulations. We wined and dined to our hearts content in a private room decked to the nines with fake plants and every decoration the restaurant had handy. It was all kinds of kitsch and I could not be happier. Who needs decadent table plans and foliage fulled installations, eh? The highlight was having the patrons sing “Sweet Caroline” as Mike and I had our very impromptu and unlawful first dance.

Lockdown loomed and the celebrations wound down just as we were ushered to a fancy hotel where we were staying under the pretences of “business travel”. The check in desk were skeptical at the bride and groom which stood in front of them but whisked us to our room. We revelled at the marvellous day and felt so grateful. After a room service breakfast, we drove home through a deserted ghost-like city. It was bizarre, but we were beaming with bliss. We did it!

When things had settled and the months rolled by, ninety-four-year-old grandma asked if this was a marriage of convenience? In some way, absolutely! But with real love and commitment at the core. Mike and I still flip between seeing ourselves as engaged over married and it’s only in moments of weakness or passion we address each other as husband and wife. It’s all rather confusing, to be fair.

When I look back on our special day, I smile and my heart beams. It honestly was perfect, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Having my parents in the flesh would have been amazing but them perched on the fireplace is a beautiful metaphor, not to mention the best seats in the house.

What I’ve learnt

The moral here is that you can have the most lavish plans in all the world, yet in an instant – everything can change. What matters most is that you have one another. Life has thrown us some devastating hurdles, but we are so blessed that we have our health, love and have such perspective on what really matters. Our experiences have left us truly unshakeable. So, here’s to our London Legals, impromptu and incredible in every sense.

Now to plan the big white wedding – whenever or wherever that may be. Most probably when I am forty-seven with six kids under the belt.

And we’ll run to the registry to make it legal

Throwing away our plans for anything regal

When love has won and the deed is done

We’ll shout it from the rooftops in all it’s glory

This is our love story

Xx Ainsleigh xx