As has been mentioned many times before, we were aiming to import as much of Scotland as possible to our big day (short of imposing passport controls should the independence lobby have won the prior referendum). Part of this was getting as many men in kilts as possible. Some conventional "wisdom" would dictate that the kilts of the groom and the groomsmen should be standardised however, to me, one's kilt is a personal means of self-expression. It's a way of identifying with one's heritage and showing one's personal taste. A kilt is also a fairly common gift for a significant birthday such as an 18th or a 21st which adds another layer of sentimental value. For these reasons, and the fact that I was adamant I wanted to wear my own kilt (snug though it is) we asked the ushers who were wearing kilts and my best man to wear their own. This had the additional advantage of ensuring several tartans were on show.
I was wearing the Modern Dress Robertson tartan; a base of red with green and navy blue elements. My dad was wearing the modern hunting version of the same. Unsurprisingly this had a green base. Part of the pleasure of kilts, as well as the initial visual impact, is the detailing that goes with them. My sgian dubh (translation: black knife, the dagger that is worn in the sock) had the clan crest engraved on it as did dad's kilt pin. Mine was a sword topped with the logo of my beloved alma mater St. Andrews. My cufflinks (another sartorial detail I love) were the graduate cufflinks. Dad meanwhile was wearing rowing themed ones; very appropriate given his history in the sport.
We did have a slight wardrobe dilemma... Hugh and Ross by sheer coincidence had the same family tartan. The ancient Douglas. This lead to detailed discussion the night before about which flashes and socks would be worn by each in order to differentiate themselves slightly. In addition Hugh, a serving army officer, wore cufflinks made from shell casings of bullets that had been fired (hopefully not at him) in action.
Finally, last but certainly not least, Fraser (Cat's cousin) wore the Help for Heroes tartan. He was the only non-Scot to wear a kilt and the gesture was hugely appreciated. We opted for that tartan a) because we liked the colours of the tartan and b) because a portion of the hire fee went to the above charity. The unifying theme through the kilts and suits was a purple cravat tie; the tying of which caused more than mild frustration on the day. Despite my spare shirts, I was determined not to spill anything to avoid re-tying.
Continuing with the Scottish theme, we had whisky at the reception. The one we opted for was a Chivas Regal 12 year old; chosen as it was a good all-rounder and should appeal to most palettes. There was another bottle involved too. I had smuggled (with the manager's permission) a bottle of Talisker 10 year old into the dining room so that I and the guys in the bridal party could have a dram with the toasts... I'm not being sexist, the girls just didn't like it. This one was chosen because it's the only malt my father-in-law likes and I wanted him to be able to join in this ritual.
The bottle made a re-appearance later in the evening. I had given all of the ushers quaichs as a thank-you for helping (along with a miniature of Cardhu 12 year old - the whisky I drank while planning). This is a shallow bowl for drinking whisky and I think translates roughly to cup. Traditionally whisky is consumed from this (in no small volume) as part of a ceremonial toast. As the lads had given me a quaich too (great minds thinking alike) I'm sure you can see where this is going. Helen managed to get some fabulous photos of it.
As favours we gave our guests another traditional Scottish touch; tablet. For those of you reading that haven't encountered it, it's a concoction of sugar, condensed milk, butter and milk with a flavour similar to fudge and a texture like kendal mint cake. If you weren't diabetic before hand, you would be afterwards. This was home made to a recipe I pinched off a family friend many years ago. I hope I did it justice. I was also glad to be able to contribute materially to the craft efforts of the day.
A final food and drink touch was one of the beers behind the bar; Bishop's Finger. This was the first beer Cat ever got in for me and confirmed that she was a keeper!
It has been mentioned that I made a strong (nay winning) case for our first dance to be a Bond theme tune. Being a life-long Bond fan this mean a lot. The Bond theme continued accidentally in the form of the Piper, Steve Duffy, who also played the pipes in The World is Not Enough. A fact I only found out after we booked him. We did briefly toy with the idea of hiring an ex-Bond Aston Martin as our wedding car however getting in and out in a wedding dress was decided to be impractical. I also didn't fancy having to try and peel my wife (and possibly my mother) off the Daniel Craig lookalike (and stunt double) who drove the car. Instead we opted for a 1929 Rolls Royce; a truly beautiful car and ideal for the day.
Finally, from my part was my speech. From the length of this post I'm sure you will get the impression that finding words isn't usually a problem for me. The trouble in this case was finding the right ones. I have a fairly active sense of humour as many will testify (ideally at my trial for crimes against jokes). Although the day was a serious occasion, I wanted to get a few laughs in. Not to would have made the speech sound like it was ghost written for me. After all, my function was as a warm-up act for Ross. In the end, I'm happy I judged it right. I got laughs where I was aiming for them and dignified silence (punctuated with a couple of quiet sobs) where I was being serious. Performing the speech was rather good fun too although if ever I was going to have a sympathetic crowd, I hope my wedding would be it. Feedback afterwards confirmed it had the effect I was looking for.
So that's it from me; the gap-filling is hopefully complete.
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