Being a Scottish lass living and working in London, the thought of a traditional wedding for me still conjures up fond memories of proud men in kilts, thistles and heather as buttonholes, a slap-up sit-down meal followed by speeches, and inevitably a good old fashioned ceilidh afterwards, with a proper band of specially selected musicians always up for the challenge.
To me there’s nothing more delightfully exhausting – and exhilarating – after the solemnity and formality of the marriage ceremony than an evening spent dancing together in enthusiastic (and occasionally chaotic) formation, a whole energetic dancefloor of friends and family letting their hair down en masse in the throes of a Dashing White Sergeant, a Strip the Willow, an Eightsome reel, a Gay Gordons.
They’re all very much social dances made up of repetitive sets, where those with more experience collectively guide those with none. Veterans and visitors and young and old alike join in with abandon, the main purpose to be having fun as you progress around the room, keeping time with the music, keeping up with the steps, and making sure you’re positioned correctly as you move on to the next set, sometimes with with a different partner, sometimes not.
I feel it’s such a great way to facilitate an intimate interaction between the two newly-joined families. It seems to me to symbolise a ritualistic bonding; arm in arm and hand in hand, the constant weaving in and out over and under across the dance floor acting like a human warp and weft, as if each dancer trails in their wake an invisible thread, all together subtly supporting and strengthening the underlying fabric of family fusion created by the newly-blessed union of bride and groom… ❤