SO HERE it is, our very first Style City weddings edition, and we hope it will help all you brides- to-be (and bridegrooms) make those all-important decisions about the biggest day of your life.

Now this is where I should, as they say, declare an interest. Or perhaps that should be non- interest. For, while I am as happy as the next romantic to see my friends walk down the aisle and to drink of their free Champagne until the early hours, I have never been into the whole white wedding thing myself.

I never had that burning desire as a little girl to wear a big dress. Well, I did, but the big dress I wanted to wear was Scarlett O’Hara’s crinoline and I wanted to be commanding scores of suitors from the top of a sweeping staircase not standing at the altar worrying about the overdraft.

That is not to say I don’t like big weddings. I love other people’s and have had the pleasure of attending some fantastic knees -ups everywhere from fairytale castles in Wales to windswept Hawaiian beaches.

My own nuptials took place on a deserted beach in Queensland, with me sporting a chiffon dress (by Temperley) and a cracking case of sunburn. The heavens opened at the crucial bit – which proves you can’t ever control the weather for your wedding, even in Australia – but it was intimate and special.

Big weddings can do funny things to a lot of women, though. They call it the bridezilla complex and certainly bridezilla can be a terrifying creature to behold. Before your eyes, an otherwise mature, intelligent woman morphs into a crazed harpie so worried that the bridegroom’s nose in the life-size ice sculpture is too big, that she hasn’t noticed her new husband has sneaked off to inspect the matron-of-honour’s underskirts in the honeymoon suite.

One budding bridezilla I knew snubbed a best friend as a bridesmaid because she was thinner than her, while another sacked her matron-of-honour for gross misconduct on the hen night (well, she did down a crate of wine and half a dozen WKDs before vanishing for a week). Yet another bride went so far as to encourage her wedding party to undergo a bit of Botox to make sure no rogue frown lines spoiled the wedding photos.

With all that in mind, I have three things to say to any budding bridezilla.

Firstly, never, ever make your bridesmaids wear orange. No- one looks good in orange – you know it, they know it, and they know you know it.

Secondly, feed your guests well and splash around enough Champagne, and they will tell everyone it was the best wedding they ever went to.

And finally. Remember when the confetti has been thrown, the cake eaten and the dress retired to the loft, your wedding is about you and your husband and your love for each other and nothing – not even the pageboy vomiting wedding cake frosting down the front of your Vera Wang – should be able to spoil that.