I went to 11 weddings this year

One Saturday last August I woke up with a hangover, and realised that my alarm hadn't gone off and that I needed to be at a close friend's wedding two hours' drive away.

I grabbed a dress that I'd worn to a wedding the weekend before from a suitcase under my bed, ran to the car and got changed in the car park of the church, just about beating the bride in.

It could have been a scene from Four Weddings and a Funeral, except that Hugh Grant, the lucky chap, only had four weddings. I had 11. In one year. (Though I did, respectfully, turn down an invitation to attend a simultaneous broadcast of a wedding shown in a tent next to the church.)

picture: backless wedding dresses

That wasn't the latest I have arrived at a ceremony. At one, I sped in just as they were saying their vows, another I missed entirely - something the father of the bride, my uncle, referenced in his speech not only that day, but also at his next daughter's wedding. I've also been very early: at one wedding my friend and I sat on our Travelodge bed drinking warm wine I'd bought from the petrol station because we didn't realise kick-off was at 5pm, rather than the usual 2pm.

Another time I turned up to the ceremony at 9.30am, only to find out months later that I wasn't invited until the evening festivities. I'm slightly embarrassed to realise now that as I sobbed through the vows, the bride must have been wondering how she was going to squeeze an extra two guests into the seating plan.

I've done one reading and been a bridesmaid twice: the second time, after a summer of excess (read: weddings), I called my boyfriend on the day in a panic when I thought I wasn't going to fit into my dress, asking him to bring my Spanx. Totally unfazed, his only question was, "Do you need both pairs?" (That's when I knew he was the one for me.)

Last year I spent $4000 on hotels, $3400 on gifts, $770 on taxis, $1900 on trains and petrol, $1400 on outfits (not everyone merits a new dress; I avoid cameras for fear of appearing on Facebook in the same outfit two weekends running), $1500 on hen nights, $400 on engagement drinks and took two days off work for weddings.

But I have learnt some lessons. The first is that something always goes wrong, but usually no one notices. Take the wedding where all the booze was nicked the night before (the thieves thoughtfully left the cake, which was in the same refrigerated van). The next morning the ushers were dispatched to buy up everything they could from the local convenience store, and the bride didn't find out until after dinner. Or the marquee wedding where the caterer's oven broke and they ended up using the mother of the bride's Aga cooker.

I've learnt that there's always someone too drunk – and I try not to let that be me. And most importantly, no matter how well you get on with someone at the dinner table, it doesn't mean you'll be friends for life.

This I learnt the hard way after an awkward encounter in my local supermarket, where I saw the new gay best friend I'd met two weekends before, and shrieked hello while running in for a hug.

He didn't recognise me.

This year I have a modest five weddings to attend, so far. Not including my own. Yes, for once, it's my friends' turn to moan about me.

read more: queeniewedding.co.uk