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Being a woman with no burning desire or prospect of matrimony, I find weddings… intriguing. There is a laundry list of dos and don’ts for the bride, the groom, the father of the bride, the father of the groom, the guests, the florist, the wedding coordinator, the flower girl and on and on and on.But what if you just ignored the ceremony for a minute? Put aside the freshness of the flowers and the seating charts for a spell. What would happen if the guests started to nosh at the hors d’oeurves before given their cue. What would happen if you decided to forego the live band or DJ in favor of an IPod? What would become of a wedding where some guests were 30 to 60 minutes late? I have seen the product of just such an event, and it’s called a kick-ass, cool wedding.

We as women, brides, have been told over and over, that this is the most important day of your life. Your special day. The one day when everything has to be perfect. Oh I would argue that most brides either surrender or elevate their own standard of perfection to meet the expectations of others. Even the ceremony begins with “Dearly beloved. We are gather here today…” The very first words traditionally spoken at a wedding do not even address the bride and groom. It addresses the dearly beloved, the family and friends, guests, which should tell everyone off the bat that a wedding is not for the couple. A wedding is first and foremost for everyone else.

No wonder so many end in the toilet.

I think a wedding should be one of the most important days in a couple’s life. And as such, it should be about that couple, not fulfilling a checklist of family and cultural traditions. Having said that, let me tell you about a couple who I thought got it right.

The drive along PCH was short but calming with surfers and sailboats on the water to my left. The sky was clearer and bluer than in the city and the hit of cool oxygen was sinfully refreshing. I put the soothing sensation in reserve, knowing I would need it as I turned to make my ascent upward into a beautiful but windy Malibu Canyon. There was no other person or traffic so I just prayed that I was driving up the right mountain. I sighed relief when I found the entrance to the cozy rec spot, among the first to arrive. People were parking orderly and politely, miraculously with out the direction of valet or attendants.

The event was actually a pool party, the guest book, smooth black igneous rocks that guests were asked to sign with silver Sharpie - to eventually go into the couples garden. The wedding keepsakes were green kazoos with the special date printed on them; Kazoos that the guests would later be asked to toot out “Here comes the Bride.” The centerpieces were baskets of seedless grapes and green apples and kiwi on tables covered with white paper table cloths, then striped long ways with a brown paper, perfect for drawing if you chose to use the crayons provided. The dining tables were adjacent to a swimming pool where kids and adults alike randomly dove in. Pre wedding was dip and veggies and chips and wine. Post wedding was polish sausages and hamburgers, tri-tip and baked beans. I have never seen baked beans at a wedding. They were tasty.

Wedding pictures took over forever, but that was ok because no one was asked to wait before having the wedding dinner. A select few of us actually sat at our assigned seat and groups formed by acquaintance or relation or, in my case, completely by chance. I was even complimented on my aura, which apparently expanded tenfold once I finally got a cup of coffee.

When husband and wife joined the festivities, they made a brief speech with one poignant comment. “There is no one here that we don’t love… that is why you are all here. Thank you so much for coming.”

It’s an important lesson for all. Screw the Dearly Beloved. Make the guest list, the menu, the ceremony, the spirit of the occasion… Make you nuptials about YOU!