decisions

Be your own adjudicator

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Be your own adjudicator‘Should’ can be an unhelpful word, particularly when we use it as a weapon with which to beat ourselves.

Life is fast and competitive and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by our awareness of what other people are doing. I enjoy feeling connected to people I know and people I don’t via social media, and getting little insights into lives that are different from mine. But I can also feel myself drawing unhelpful comparisons. Noticing things that other people do that I don’t, and interpreting them as evidence of my failings.

But just because something exists as a possibility, it doesn’t mean that you should do it. It’s just one of the options. Do it or don’t, no-one cares.

My problem is that I hear ‘should’ when it’s not even being said. I confuse hearing somebody say “I am doing XYZ” with “You should be doing XYZ.” I see people talking about how they’re raising their children or building their careers or decorating their homes, and forget that what they’re saying has no relation to me. 

I’ve always struggled with the fear that I’m not doing the right thing. I don’t mean morally or legally – fear is such a dominant emotion for me that I’m always pretty confident I’m on the right side of the law. No, I’m worried about doing The Optimum Thing.

If we’re on holiday and looking for a restaurant, I’ll worry about choosing the ‘right’ one. What if we’d have had a better time elsewhere? What if that table by the window would have enhanced our experience? What if sitting this near the loos ruins the ambience? What if it’s actually this thought process that’ll ruin our night?

Be your own adjudicatorAnd now that I’m a parent, I – like every single mother on earth, probably – worry that I’m not doing everything I ‘should’ do for my daughter. Should we be at a class? Should we be socialising? Should we be playing educational games indoors? Should I be doing more to make the most of her – whatever that means? As if just loving and caring for her with everything I’ve got isn’t enough.

Parenting is relentless decision making. And what’s harder than being the person who has to make them all, is the realisation that nobody’s going to come along and let you know if you’re doing it right. You just have to trust yourself in the moment.

When our daughter was very small, I used to imagine there would be a time in years to come when she’d say to me: “Mum, you know that day when I was so upset in January 2018? It’s because I wanted you to heat my milk up/put me to bed/ turn off that unbearable episode of Gossip Girl.” But as the sleep deprivation started to wear off, I realised: That’s not going to happen. 

You’ll never know if you did the right thing, because the right thing doesn’t really exist. There’s no list, charting all the options in order of preference, nor is there a jury waiting to judge you on your choices. We have to be our own adjudicators.

It’s true for all areas of our lives. There’s no adjudicator who’s going to come and tell you which career path you ‘should’ have taken, which date you ‘should’ have gone on, or which Netflix series you ‘should’ have chosen to best entertain your baby. We did what we did based on the information we had at the time – there’s no other way to do it.

Be your own adjudicatorSince becoming a mother I’ve learnt that, to be happy, I have to accept my choices as I make them, one by one. Decisions require my attention quickly; I don’t always see them coming. I can’t always nail it, and, if I’m not careful, I’ll spiral into a long and pointless thought process about what I ‘should’ have done instead.

But now I’ve realised how unhelpful that is, and how many moments with my baby I’ll miss if I spend all my time analysing what I’ve done in the past.

Instead it’s better to focus on making decisions that suit us both today. My daughter is the most important person in the world to me, and I’m that to her, too. So when I’m deciding how we spend our time, it’s OK that I do so with what I need in mind as well – my energy levels, my mental health – because if I’m well, so is she. As I’ve written before, the inherent guilt of parenting makes it hard to prioritise yourself, but with nine months of experience under my belt, I can tell you: you must.

So I want to park the ‘should’ and have a little more faith. In myself as a parent and as a fallible human being, and in the need for there to be healthy differences between how we all lead our lives.

Because time will pass, no matter how we spend it. And to hand more of our precious hours over to regret, rather than to joy, and to self-criticism rather than kindness, feels like the kind of waste we should all do our best to avoid.

Life advice: Stop trying to do everything at once

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Be happyThis week I finally realised that it’s OK to admit that you’re not capable of doing absolutely everything at once.

This is not a radical discovery but, in a world where relentless multitasking is a way of life, acceptance of this fact does feel like one.

If you’re anything like me, the only way that you will come to accept that you’re not a failure because you can’t manage to be in 55 places, achieving 307 things at once, is if somebody else says it to you.

Sit with a friend or a family member and list all of the things you’re currently achieving, everything you’d still like to do, and then berate yourself for being lazy because you aren’t managing to do it all. Now take a look at their face. They will shake their head. They may even laugh at the absurdity of what you’re saying. And then they’ll look you in the eye and tell you to calm down. You’re doing plenty, they’ll say, have a bloody lie down.

You need to decide what your priorities are, and then to give yourself permission to do those things without feeling bad about it. It doesn’t mean you can’t do additional stuff too, just that the bulk of your time, energy, thought, money – whatever – goes in that direction and you don’t beat yourself up for it. You don’t waste brain space feeling inadequate.

My current number one and two are: freelance writing – doing the work I have, and finding more; and, as soon as we get our sh*t together, attempting to find somewhere new to live in London. I will be doing plenty of other stuff too – eating, sleeping, going to work, eating nectarines over the sink, setting aside time to make incomprehensible notes that might one day turn into a story, consuming passionfruit margaritas, talking to strangers who definitely didn’t ask to hear about my baby nephew… oh, and maintaining relationships with my husband/family/friends/Coronation Street – but these are the life goals that I need to be making most progress with right now.

One of the most useful things I’ve learnt since becoming an adult, working person, is that if you attempt to do too many things in one go, you’ll either end up getting nothing done, or you’ll do all of them badly. Focus is everybody’s best friend; I just wish she’d come round more often than her pals Distraction, Procrastination, and I Wonder What Everybody’s Up To On Facebook? We just have to be strict with ourselves. As I’ve written before, if I didn’t have my egg timer, I don’t know how I’d get anything done.

Even more powerful than not physically attempting to do it all, is giving yourself the mental freedom to stop the internal dialogue that tells you that you’re failing. That voice that says, well yes, maybe you are doing this piece of work, and meeting this deadline, and fitting in some quality time with your loved ones, but how can you enjoy yourself knowing that you haven’t also written a best-selling novel? How can you let yourself have a holiday when you could be auditioning Hollywood actors for the film adaptation of your memoir? OH YEAH YOU HAVEN’T WRITTEN ONE YET – UNPACK YOUR SUITCASE AND GET BACK TO YOUR DESK.

My opinion is this: if you’ve already got so much on your plate, why would you add self-criticism to your to-do list too? This is all about being realistic, and chucking in a couple of hours a day to berate yourself because you’re not Wonder Woman is the precise opposite of that.

So let’s be a little bit kinder to ourselves, shall we?

Great. Well, that’s my allotted hour of creativity done for the day, now onto the next thing. But not before I’ve had a little rest. A girl can only do so much, you know.

On getting older and making CHOICES

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IMG_6378When I sit down to write this blog, I rarely know what I’m going to talk about until I start typing.

I tend to perch myself on the edge of the sofa, thus adding an element of drama to proceedings, turn over all the things I’ve been thinking and talking about in my mind, and then start writing about one of them. (I realise you didn’t necessarily ask about my writing process, but I’ve been enjoying the My Writing Day series in the Guardian so much that I just couldn’t help myself).

And today, that process made me realise that the subject of most relevance to me right now is the variety of CHOICES we make as we get older. So here’s some thoughts on that:

When Wednesday rolls around and I have special, dedicated time for doing my freelance writing thing, the whole day is about choice. Who will I pitch to? Which idea is worth pursuing? Will I let myself be distracted by the pile of hand-washing that suddenly looks so appealing now that I’m supposed to be doing work? Or will I chase the dollar and get to 6pm before realising I haven’t breathed an ounce of fresh air (or as fresh as London can offer) since yesterday? So many choices and so little time. I spend hours wondering if I’m making the right decisions, as I’m sure we all do.

On a related note, I’ve come to realise how helpful it is when editors choose to spend a few seconds sending a response to a pitch to let you know that it’s not quite right. Nobody likes to be rejected but it’s still so much more helpful than silence. I can tick them off on my list, move on, and try to do better next time. I know that people are busy – and that lots of editors receive so many emails each day that responding is just not feasible – but when you spend your day seemingly sending emails into the abyss, it’s good to feel acknowledged, and hopefully one step closer to getting it right.

Our time is precious and choosing who we spend it with is a serious decision. Sometimes we choose to fight for more time with a person, and sometimes we decide to step away because, for whatever reason, the relationship just isn’t giving us what we need. My new rule is: if it feels like someone is stealing your time rather than giving you the gift of theirs, it’s time to make a change.

This week I chose to take Facebook off my phone. It was making me feel anxious and stressed and constantly in demand and I didn’t like it. Even though the little red notifications were rarely aimed at me personally, I felt that if I didn’t click right now to see what was going on, I’d be missing out or being disorganised in some way. I haven’t ‘left’ Facebook – chill out – I’ve just left it on my laptop for looking at when I want to, rather than carrying it around in my hand all the time. And I feel a lot better for it.

I like writing on here about my life, the lessons I’ve learnt, the things I find interesting, and I like sharing tips and advice that I can only hope someone will find useful. Whether you write for a living or for fun, you have to make a choice about what you will and won’t share. Whenever I come to this blog, I think through the unwritten policies that decide what I write about. For example, I want you to feel like you know me but not so well that I may as well have hung my laundry around your lounge. I want you to know that I’m human without making myself too vulnerable. I want to talk about my marriage without sharing so much that I somehow bring it to an end. It’s nice to have a place where I make the rules – and where I can choose to break them any time I like.

For the last week or so I’ve been getting up just a little bit earlier than usual to start writing some fiction. I don’t really know how to do that (but does anyone before they try?) so I’ve just been sitting down with a pen and my idea and seeing where it takes me. I do about 20 minutes a day whilst still wearing my pyjamas and with my husband sound asleep upstairs and each session gets me about two or three pages of words. Not words I’d like anyone to read right now, mind – my goodness no – but it’s a start. I realised that if I wanted to try, I needed to choose to find more hours in the day. It turns out they are there if you’re willing to respond to a slightly earlier alarm.

It’s very much acknowledged now that we’re a bit older that we have to build time into our lives to do nothing. To choose to have days when we class ourselves as being busy, but what we mean is that we’ll be busy doing nothing. Looking after ourselves. Managing our mental health. Eating our way through our second bag of Wispa Bites. Whatever. This time is ours. Please don’t come round.

We’re about to go on holiday and I’m choosing – as much as possible – to have an internet free time. I want to look at Florence, not my phone. I want to scroll through lists of gelato flavours, not pictures of other people’s lattes. And I want to talk to my husband face-to-face, rather than typing away about idontevenknowwhat on a device that I’m becoming more and more sure is trying to kill me. I choose to have some time off, and I can’t bloody wait.

5 things that happen when you dye your hair a completely different colour

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There is no relationship more turbulent than the one we have with our hair.

One minute we’re the best of friends, making each other look good at parties, working together to hide the inexplicable shine on our forehead, and the next it’s like we don’t understand each other at all. Our ends are split, our parting’s all over the place, and goodness only knows what’s going on with our fringe.

And sometimes we reach the end of our tether. And for me that came a couple of months ago. I’d been dyeing my hair blond for the best part of 16 years and it was time for a change. So I went to see my hairdresser, closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

And within the hour I was a brunette (fun fact: dyeing your hair brown takes a hell of a lot less time than blond highlights. Regardless of what you think of the colour, you can’t argue with that kind of time saving). And so started a fun few weeks of living with a whole new look. So if you’re thinking of giving it a go, here are a few things you can expect to happen:

1. You will become frightened of your own reflection 
Nothing makes a person more obsessed with their own appearance than a change of hair cut or colour. You can spot them – they’re the ones sat chatting to a friend in a cafe whilst looking over their shoulder at their reflection in the window, or pretending to be paying really close attention to stirring their drink but actually staring at their face in the back of the spoon.

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But don’t be too harsh on them, this isn’t all vanity you’re looking at – it’s fear. When you walk out of a salon with a head full of hair that’s a completely different colour or length from what you’re used to, it’s hard to feel anything other than startled for at least a week. I’d gasp when I caught a look at myself in a bus window, shudder at the sight of tin foil, and almost pass out when I woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror (although, to be fair, that is nothing new).

2. People will ask you why you did it and you’ll have no idea how to answer them 
And that’s because you’d have thought your reasons were obvious – you wanted to, you thought it would suit you and because, you know, you only live once and you can always dye it back (if we all get behind it, #YOLOAYCADIB will definitely catch on). And the problem is that, regardless of what is actually meant by this question, it always feels like either:
– I don’t like it and can’t understand why you would do this to yourself; or
– I can only assume that you’ve had some kind of breakdown
So you can either try and convince them that it looks awesome, or pretend to cry and hope they’ll buy you some sweets to make you feel better. I don’t need to tell you which way I went *chews strawberry foam mushrooms*

3. Your dearest friends and family will not recognise you until you’re standing directly in front of their faces saying “HELLO, IT’S ME!”
For the first few weeks after I dyed my hair, I’m pretty sure that my husband woke up every day and wondered who the hell was lying next to him. I’ve heard it’s good to keep your other half on their toes, but making them think that a crazy stranger has broken in and got into bed with them is possibly taking it a little too far. But, on the plus side, if you’re trying to avoid somebody or enjoy scaring the bejesus out of people you know and love; this could definitely be the approach for you. I also recommend adding some dark glasses and a plastic nose for extra horror.

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4. And some people don’t notice at all…

It’s incredible. You go from blond to brown, add a heavy fringe and a chunk of red lipstick and yet some people – people you’ve known for years and years and years – won’t notice at all. In some ways it’s quite nice – it’s pretty nerve wracking the first time you step out with a new look so it’s kind of nice to be treated like nothing has changed. But on the other hand, it makes you wonder what it would take to get a reaction – a full face lift? A second head? If only I had the money, I would find out in the name of research.

5. Sometimes you’ll wonder what the hell you were thinking

The problem with hair is that you never really know when you’ve nailed it. One day it looks good and you love it so much you want to swish it in the eye of all your haters, and the next you want to chop it all off and start again. This is just what it’s like to have hair, no matter what colour it is. So it’s better just to give it a good wash and a blow dry and remember that you actually do like it, you’re just overtired and paying too much attention to birthday cards that say “Blonds have more fun!”

Or otherwise, remember #YOLOAYCADIB

The top 7 things I learnt at Blogcademy

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Charlotte-Buxton-Blogcademy-gold-sparkly-rabbit-earsI spent this weekend in Shoreditch. There’s a sentence I haven’t written before.

Yes, I left the house and the sofa and the lure of the Coronation Street omnibus (which I am very much looking forward to devouring later) to head out to blog school – AKA The Blogcademy – to learn how to make this little website of mine better.

I started this blog because I wanted somewhere to write and be creative (and to make fun of my other half for being DREADFUL at basic domestic duties. It’s a wonder it hasn’t torn us apart, to be honest). And now that it’s been going for a while and I’ve figured out how I like to write and that there are even some people out there who want to read it, it’s time to turn it into a more coherent, focused blog, rather than just a place where I come to have thoughts. I’ve basically been treating it like the bath until now.

So I went along to hang out with 40 or so fellow bloggers and to learn from the very impressive Shauna Haider, Kat Williams (of Rock n Roll Bride fame), and Gala Darling – team Blogcademy (pictured below with me. Like my ears?)

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And I learnt a lot; I mean A LOT. My hand hurts from writing so many notes, my brain hurts from spending two whole days paying attention, and my stomach hurts in advance of all the chocolate I’m inevitably going to eat whilst trying to get my blog up to scratch.

I could write a post 100 points long to share all the tips I picked up, but that would go against everything we learnt about the importance of being interesting and succinct. So instead I’ll just share the top seven things I’ve taken away from the weekend – and then I’ll have no excuse not to get cracking with putting it all in place…

1. Define your blog’s purpose.
This is something I have been dodging for a long time. If you’ve ever had a conversation with me about what this blog is about you’ll know that I am unable to express it quickly, if at all – or certainly not without flapping my arms a lot and saying “Well, it’s sort of meant to be funny – HAHAHA” in the hope that you’ll change the subject. This needs to change. When I actually sat down and thought about it (and strapped my arms to my sides to prevent the inevitable flapping) I decided that overall this blog is probably about relationships, what they realistically entail and laughing at and celebrating the mundane. As much as it might seem like it’s just about me taking every opportunity possible to mention how much I like Pringles, there is more to it than that, I promise.

2. Always write with a very specific reader in mind.
Of course! It’s so obvious! But how many of us actually do it? Not me. One of the most useful things Kat said is that your ideal reader might be you five years ago – i.e. somebody who can learn from you. In my case, five years ago, my husband and I had just moved in together and were learning how to cope with our differing habits (mine: complaining when the bin hasn’t been taken out; his: relentlessly failing to take the bin out). That girl might have liked what I write. Having said that, I know that a lot of the people who read this are either at similar stages in life to me or a little further on so perhaps it’s one of them I should keep in mind. My mum is also a big fan but there’s a chance she’s a little biased (not towards me, just towards the posts that mention her.) Either way, I think some market research is in order.

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Drawings by the amazing @charlotteart (P.S I WANT those knickers)

3. People are interested in what you can do for them. Be helpful.
I’m sure you will agree I am currently nailing this one, sharing all my new found wisdom like this. But again – of course! This makes total sense, particularly when I think about my own posts which have been most popular. Relationships: Six ways to help keep things interesting remains my most read, shared and liked post of all time. And I think it might be because it was in some way useful; if only to remind people that there is somebody else out there who believes that Boots Advantage Card points are a reasonable topic of conversation. This has made me think a lot too about what we really mean by ‘helpful’. You don’t necessarily have to teach somebody something really profound (though I think you’ll agree my suggestion about serving snacks in nice bowls was pretty out there), you can just write something which people can relate to; that enables them to see a side of themselves represented. In short, I will admit that people leaving lights switched on in rooms they’re not in is annoying, so you don’t have to.

4. Come up with some regular features.
You have probably noticed that I blog once a week. This has kept me going until now but I need to do more. And the way to do this, I now know, is to come up with some regular features I can share on other days of the week. I’m not quite sure what they’re going to be yet (Marshmallow Monday sounds cool but what would it really be about?) but I think they’re an ace idea so I am going to give it a go. Perhaps an interview with other couples to see what their lives together are really like, or an attempt at a funny take on those often ridiculous relationship Q&As you get in newspapers? I think I could have quite a lot of fun with that.


5. Your blog is your brand. Like it or not.
Whether I am really planning for this blog to make me money I don’t know but this weekend taught me that either way, I need to treat it like a business with its own brand that readers immediately recognise. Sure, you might know what my face looks like thanks to the giant picture of it at the top of the page but that’s not really branding, more narcissism. So I need to do some work. And I find this part the most intimidating because I am not a designer and certainly not good at building websites (this current format took me a full day and LOTS of shouting to get in place). I need to change platform and I am also considering changing the name so that people can tell sooner what this whole thing is about. I love Nothing Good Rhymes with Charlotte but what does it tell you? (other than that I’m clearly hilarious). This is probably the hardest part so I will not be rushing into anything. And anyway, won’t I miss having EVERY person who reads this remind me that Scarlett rhymes with Charlotte? Actually, now I come to mention it, no I won’t.

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6. Be organised.
It is so nice but so daunting to come away from an event with a to-do list the length of your house. But this is of course what you want from a course you’ve paid money for. So now I need to get on with it. I’m going to write down my goals, make a plan and get my sh*t together. I’m even going to tidy my desk to help make this happen. If you’ve seen my desk (or Post We Haven’t Bothered To Open In Two Years Mountain, as I like to call it) you’ll know this was no small task.


7. Ask people what they think.
Unsurprisingly the people who know that they like to read are your readers – DUH. And it’s time I started asking some questions – about the blog’s name, about the things I write that they like, that they don’t like, about whether it’s actually just me that finds jokes about bins funny… A little market research will do me and this the world of good. In fact, why not start now – if you have thoughts on what is good/great/bad/missing from/outrageously offensive about this blog, please tell me. Leave a comment, send me a tweet, leave a Facebook comment, come round to my house, sit me down and tell me how it is… whichever way you like, I would love to hear from you and to use what you think to help make this better. Just remember that if you do decide to come over, you need to bring some crisps. I’ve got some very fancy bowls I’d love you to see.

Thank you to team Blogcademy for a great weekend and to all the lovely blogger chums I met across the two days. I most definitely feel that I got SCHOOLED. Now the hard work really begins…

Marriage: Why I’m changing my name

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IMG_1226I’ve decided to change my name when we’re married.

Not Charlotte – I’ll stick with that for at least a little bit longer (Nothing Good Rhymes With Petula would be a terrible name for a blog) – just my surname for now.

With the guest list a close, migraine inducing second, this has been the hardest decision on the marriage planning list. Yes, it was tricky choosing which heel would look most profound with my dress, and which flowers would best complement the venue’s exquisite wooden beams, but deciding how my post would be addressed for the rest of my life has been a little more taxing.

I have changed my mind more times than I do when looking at a restaurant menu. Sticking with Reeve is the equivalent of ordering a nice safe steak – familiar, medium rare, and only likely to cause problems if spelt with an ‘s’ on the end (I can no more stomach two steaks than I can being referred to as ‘Reeves’). Whereas changing to my new, married name is like selecting a Bouillabaisse. Sure, I know how to spell it (thanks to Google) but I’ve not grown up with it. Will I still look and feel like me when I’ve got it?

The only way to make this kind of decision is by listing the pros and cons of each option. To be Mrs B or not to be Mrs B – that is the question:

Reasons TO change

1. A post wedding project
The wedding is over, the honeymoon is complete, the gifts are all unwrapped and the cards are gathering dust – what the hell do I do with myself next? Bake a quiche and enjoy marital bliss? Take the Volvo I imagine will automatically appear on the drive as soon as we say ‘I do’ for a spin?

Changing my name will give me a nice meaty project to get my teeth into. I will have to ring everyone – the mortgage people, the council tax people, the trillion companies behind all the shop clubcards that prevent my purse from shutting… I’ll have a whale of a time. And I’m sure they’ll all want to hear how the wedding went too.

2. Bye bye school
When I was at school, I’d have liked some time off being Charlotte Reeve. She was deeply uncool (conjugating French verbs was one of her hobbies) and pleased if she just managed to get through the day without anyone laughing directly in her face.

So changing my name can be the final stage in shaking off my teenage years and rebranding as the new, super trendy, adult Charlotte, free to conjugate without judgment. Oui, elle peut.

3. They will never find me
Hey, people I grew up with! You know how you think it’s hilarious to find pictures from when we were kids with bad hair and ocean sized eyebrows, and upload them to Facebook and tag me in them? Well, if I change my name then you’re going to have to work a lot harder to find me, and I’ll have an excuse to just point blank deny that the fruit bowl-haircutted creature in the photo is me. If only they’d invent a ‘I hope your scanner explodes’ button…

Reasons NOT to change

1. Admin
While some people might call the process of changing your name a ‘project’, others would deem it an administrative nightmare. Changing my name means calling every mug with the keys to my money, my right to travel, and the ability to give me points in exchange for the use of my own shopping bag, and then waiting by the letter box in the hope that an avalanche of newly printed plastic arrives. For someone who hates being on hold as much as I do, sticking with Reeve would be a wise decision.

2. A comedy of errors
I have had some phenomenal variations of my surname over the years: ‘Charlotte Rave’, ‘Mr Charlotte Greeve’ and my most recent favourite ‘The Charlotte Reeve’ show that even the simplest name can send a mailing system wild. I have put so much energy into getting people to understand that my name is Reeve not Reed, Breathe or Steve that I’m not sure I can take another one on.

3. Sorry, are you talking to me?
Deciding to be referred to as Mrs is one thing, but remembering to answer to it is another. I can just imagine: My name will be shouted into the dentist waiting room, or over the tannoy at the supermarket ham counter, and I’ll be looking around gormlessly for its owner to come forward before catching a glimpse of my new Clubcard and realising it’s me. Remembering to respond when called will be just another thing to add to my ‘To do’ list.

It’s a tough one to call.

And I’ve really battled with it. The main reason I thought I’d stick with my maiden name is because I worried that changing wasn’t a very feminist thing to do. Surely we can just be called whatever we like and still be married? I could change my name to Forrest Gump and still be his wife ’til death do us part if I wanted, couldn’t I? (Though I fear getting through passport control could be a struggle.)

And that’s quite right. But, in my case, that is precisely why I am changing. Because I want to and, as a wise friend gently reminded me, feminism is about women deciding what happens to them so I won’t be kicked out of the club just yet.

And anyway, I think it’s worth changing, if only for the anecdotes I’ll gather during the process. If my experience as a Reeve is anything to go by, I’ve got some interesting post coming my way.

Wedding dilemmas: The guest list

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IMG_2901They say it’s the hardest part of any wedding. And they’re right.

I thought the dress would be difficult. Finding an item in which you look so incredible people gasp for air in your presence sounds tough. But it turns out that anyone will look nice in a wedding dress. Even someone who still has a skin condition only babies get 27 YEARS after they were born.

And finding a venue was easier than I thought too. They have food and tables and are willing to serve you booze until the early hours of the morning. What’s not to like?

But the guest list is tricky. It’s sensitive, it’s complicated and – above all else – it determines whether you’ll be so strapped for cash after the honeymoon that you have to eat your wedding cards to survive.

So how do you choose who to invite? There’s a lot of advice around about what justifies an invitation to a wedding: how long you’ve been friends, how close you are, the likelihood that they’ll buy you that Cath Kidston rolling pin you’ve had your eye on… but very little on how to rule people out. So here’s a check list to help slim down those numbers:

1) Do they get dangerously over-excited in the presence of food and booze?
It’s customary for guests to be given some kind of meal and beverage at a wedding. And if black or deep red were the colours brides wore then this may not be a problem, but white and cream are much less forgiving. One ketchupy paw here, another gravy soaked cheek there and all of a sudden your couture looks like a mucky tea towel. So choosing guests who don’t need hosing down after dinner is advisable.

2) Will they think it’s funny to shout out mid-ceremony?
When I’m standing at the altar and the shit is about to get real, I can’t imagine I’ll be in the mood for jokes. As entertaining as it is when somebody bursts in during a soap opera wedding at the ‘Does anybody have any reason why these two mugs should not be married?’ moment, I don’t think it would be so funny in real life. So if you’ve got a friend whose pursuit of laughs is likely to outweigh their fear of being punched in the face with a bouquet, maybe leave them off the list.

3) Would your fiancé be better off marrying them?
The groom’s final chance to make a run for it before the ball and chain is attached comes when he’s arrived at the venue and is watching the guests arrive. So be careful not to invite anyone who might make him think he’s made the wrong choice. For example, my other half likes festivals and camping and generally being sociable outdoors. I, on the other hand, don’t even like watching festival coverage on TV because all the mud makes me angry. So I won’t be inviting any women with a penchant for portaloos lest he realises at the last minute what he’s missing. Best to opt for your most offensive acquaintances to make sure you stand out as the best option.

4) Will they notice if the registrar’s eyes don’t match the centre pieces?
As a couple for whom it took more than 12 months to change the light bulb in our bedroom, I think it’s unlikely that we will be organised enough to ensure every detail of our wedding is perfect. And that’s fine as long as nobody mentions how much of a shame it is that the wedding vows are not written in the same font as the invitations, or that the sausages on the barbecue are not the exact pink of the flowers. So I recommend crossing off any perfectionists you know and prioritising your less observant friends and relatives – they won’t notice if the wedding car banner actually says ‘Just Barried’.

5) Can they dance?
The best thing about wedding receptions is that everyone lets their hair down and dances like idiots until their feet can take no more. And just as good singers are not welcome at karaoke, good dancers have no place at weddings. I want air punching and hip thrusting and the occasional robot. So if you’re as dangerous as I am on the dance floor, leave anybody with rhythm or co-ordination at home, they’ll just make you look bad.

So there you have it. It’s a cut throat approach but at least it’ll prevent you having to spend your big day in a marquee the size of Wales.

Or if you choose to opt out then just make sure you buy some honey. Card can be ever so tasteless on its own.