Ariane Sherine writes in the Spectator about the women taking the “we” out of wedding:
As far as the bride was concerned, the wedding was perfect. Her dress was beautiful, the vows were traditional and she changed her name after the ceremony. The clifftop scenery was breathtaking, the seven bridesmaids were encouraging and supportive: move over Princess Di. There was only one thing missing: the groom. Like a growing number of single women, Sara Starkström had decided to marry herself.
Well, you would, wouldn’t you.
‘I thought about people marrying other people without loving themselves first,’ says Starkström, a writer, explaining what many would call a bizarre overreaction to finding herself single at the age of 29. ‘How could they pledge to do all this stuff for another person when they couldn’t promise themselves the same thing? I decided to marry myself to celebrate my independence and strength. I did it to promise to be my own best friend.’
She is a writer! Of course she is. Last week my sister celebrated her 45th wedding anniversary
and my first wife and I celebrated our 18th. I am pleased to report that Ms
Starkström likewise is still together:
Though it wasn’t a legally binding ceremony (Starkström changed her surname using the Swedish equivalent of deed poll), the 36-year-old takes her married status seriously and, nearly seven years on from the wedding, still celebrates her anniversary: ‘Every year on the 9th of September I have to honour my vows, and really try to live up to the promises I made.’
But while this may all sound mad, narcissistic or completely pointless. . .
Or as James Brown puts it in his 1970 song “Super Bad”:
I love, I love to do my thing,
And I, and I don’t need, no one else
Sometimes I feels so nice, good God
I jump back, I want to kiss myself.
So here he is performing “Super Bad” in 1971:
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