
"Extravagant hen dos now cost guests so much they rival the amount spent on attending the actual wedding!" so declares the DM.
I confess. A quick skim of the Daily Mail with my morning coffee is a decidedly guilty (and let's admit it, shameful) pleasure of mine - a bit like looking forward to reading Samantha Brick's articles as and when they appear- which I also do. I've tried to analyse this nasty and otherwise out of character morning ritual (something all DM readers should set aside the time to do) and all I can come up with is this: it's a crude stress coping mechanism.
On whom can I unleash those unedited and pre caffeine scathing admonishments each risen morning with impunity? Where, from the comfort of my swivel chair can I run to in the guarantee of always finding whip worthy arse end journalism? And what else, but an impassive computer screen, could endure my howls of derision and still get on with the demands of the day, unaffected? The Daily Mail; that's the who, where and what. This morning, I simply couldn't keep the headline (above) to myself. So I'm wondering out loud:
Is £185 an 'extravagant' amount to spend on a night out? Really?!
If you don't like the bride, you shouldn't even be at the hen (make your excuses or call in sick at the last minute, we definitely don't want you there). So let's assume you're friends and want to enjoy this special time in their lives with them.

------drumroll please-------
Do people need reminding that Marriage is a major life event?
Hello? Is anybody out there? This is planet earth calling.
Maybe you haven't heard, but sometimes humans do extraordinary things. Love is a pretty big deal down here.
LET ME REPEAT THAT FOR YOU: MARRIAGE IS A BIG DEAL!
------just a friendly reminder-------
The hen do isn't just 'another night out' - the hen do is a major life celebration - 'austerity' be damned. If you can't go out and party to celebrate the marriage of a best mate - when can you? And if a hen do isn't an excuse to party and perhaps even holiday at full volume - please tell me, what the hell is?
