Mae's Hens Party

According to the Bureau of Statistics, the marriage rate is slowly dropping and has been doing so since 1969. I remember 1969. I was 19 back then, somewhat "radicalised" by 60's feminism and university and I thought actually getting legally wedded was outdated establishment nonsense. Our generation dispensed with such ridiculous rituals. We had nothing much in the way of school formals, debutante balls, engagement parties or marriage ceremonies. They represented a slavish, unenlightened adherence to old social structures.

Thank goodness all that has changed. We grew up! I have seen the light! I love weddings now. I love all the ceremonies celebrating passages in life. Such as, for example the hen's party for Mae that was given by the wonderful Sarah and friends, last week. Apparently, these hen's events sometimes feature male strippers and things bought at one of those shops I've never been in.  But Mae specified "classy". So, a Mad Hatter's High Tea at the Hyatt Hotel was arranged, followed by croquet on the venerable lawns of the Canberra Croquet Club next door. It was a hoot.

First, the dignified part. A demure group photo, followed by champagne, tea, coffee, savouries and sweet treats. Heavenly. There were some Looks about our Ridiculous Hats, from haughty staff and other patrons, but we just giggled.

The spread was delicious.  We all kept going back and back for more until we could barely waddle.

Here are the Ridiculous Hats. Mae had a bag full. She has quite a selection, which she wore in turns. The bridal tiara and veil. The Velvet top hat. The tiger beanie. The rabbit ears.

Jess borrowed hers from her brother.

Megan's was crazy and twisted.

 Sam's was borrowed from a peacock.

Sarah's had been shrunk in the dryer.

 Tegan's was a Country Women's design par excellence

Ange's was so pretty and a perfect match for the dress

Mine was very suitable for an old chook

Stephanie made her wonderful creation with hot glue and real china

Andrea's tiny fascinator set off the Marcel waves to perfection

The Croquet Clubhouse is a time capsule from a sedate era of British Imperialism and impeccable good manners. All measurements are in feet and inches. There is a framed portrait of the queen, and wooden championship boards with gold lettering. Nothing modern is present. The Game is taken very seriously. All this was charmingly explained by our club coach, who was very helpful and patient with us and stayed the entire afternoon. Only occasionally slipping off to the side for a sip from his beer supplies.

We learned how to hold the mallet, "stalk the ball", swing through our legs and tap the ball through the hoop. Then we learned how to sabotage our opponents' balls, how to aid our team-mates at the expense of others. Oh, its a vicious game, full of cunning and treachery. Loads of fun.

Halfway through the afternoon a minibus labelled "Death Star" pulled up and a party of Imperial Stormtroopers, led by a Darth Vader marched over. It was a random buck's party that had seen the hats and the girls on the croquet field as they were driving past. There was a bit of croquet mallet and light sabre interaction, followed by photos, then the boys departed, evidently in pursuit of more alcohol.

 I think Mae had a good time.

Matilda the chook certainly had a good time. She ended up wearing Mae's veil and quaffing far too much champagne. Thanks again, chief bridesmaid Sarah. You did well!