How to not havea boring wedding

Nobody plans a boring wedding. It happens by accident, in the part of the day nobody plans: the three hours between your ceremony and your evening.

Think about the shape of the day. Everything before dinner moves - the aisle, the confetti, the drinks, the hugs. Then a hundred people sit down, the food comes out, and the day just... stops. A room full of people quietly eating, waiting for something to happen. You've probably sat through one.

Nothing went wrong. That's the trap - no single thing failed. The middle of the day was simply left to look after itself, and the middle of a wedding day can't do that.

Give them to someone. That's the honest answer: decide who is carrying that part of your day before you book anything else.

At my weddings, that's me, and I'll have been at it since the drinks reception - mingling, chatting, learning your room before anyone sits down. Then your entrances, built to music we've chosen together: bridesmaids, groomsmen, best man, then the two of you, and the room has life in it straight away. Your speeches introduced properly, with a line for everyone. And my main thing: two performances during your dinner, the atmosphere a wedding breakfast doesn't normally have.

The room never gets the chance to go quiet. That's the whole trick, and it isn't a trick.

Together beats separate. A room that sings together stays on its feet together - and a room watching a performance is still just an audience.

So I don't perform at your guests. I build the afternoon so the room joins in without noticing it's joined in: the right song at the right moment, the aunties on side early, the lot of them singing back at me by the main course. It unfolds naturally, and by pudding the whole room feels like one big table.

My motto, and I stand by it: it's a collective experience.

I hear this a lot - always from the couple, and it's never true of the room by the end.

Nobody gets singled out and nobody gets pressured. That's the craft. Some rooms arrive ready; some need working, and warming, and a bit of patience. I'll have a plan from our meetings, I'll know your key characters, and I'll judge the room on the day.

And sometimes your guests will surprise you. A groom once told me at our final meeting: don't involve me, that's not me. So I left him alone, all day. At the end of the act he asked for the mic, stood on his chair and sang the whole song.

Anything can work in the right room, and plenty of couples have a brilliant time with them.

The question I'd ask about anything you're considering for your day is simpler: does it bring the whole room together, or does it put five people on show while ninety-five watch? I'm for the first kind, every time. Collective beats spectator - it's the same answer as everything else on this page.

As I tell my couples: you bring the crowd, I'll bring the vibe.