The final week before the wedding!

When I got engaged, I gave myself 14 months of preparation for my big day, and promptly went ahead planning ahead for it. I booked as many things as I could very early on, held many meetings, ignored my fiancé to make many a phone call to wedding planners and reception centres, and basically thought I had it all under control so that I could relax in my final week.

But like most of my aspirations and goals, this didn’t all go exactly according to plan, and the final week was a frenzy of explaining yet again what I wanted from the florist and the decorator, organising CDs for the English music (I had a Lebanese band) and last minute beauty touch-ups in between drives to pick up dresses and balloons and champagne.

The biggest mistake I made was working until the last minute. I worked right up until Thursday, even though my pre-wedding party (the Laylia, or wedding eve) was going to be held on Friday night. Working right through the final week was a jolt of stress that I did not need, but I still managed to escape unscathed come Friday, and had managed to get a last minute brow wax and spray tan in between driving to Paddington with my Maid of Honour (my sister Marie-Claire) to pick up my dress from the amazing Steven Khalil.

That week, my mum decorated our house with metres of tulle, my relatives sent over dozens of floral arrangements, and my aunties sent over beautiful themed chocolates to serve with the bottles of Moet Champagne on wedding-day morning. Pretty soon, our normal home had transformed into a house worthy of a bridal shoot.

And then, Friday came. And it was all about my last party as an Ayoub woman: the Laylia. The Laylia is a Lebanese tradition that is held a week before, or week of the wedding. It involves dressing up, and celebrating your final joy in your father’s house. Everyone on your side of the guest lists comes to wish you well, and to dance, eat and drink with your family as they wish you well on your soon-to-be journey.

Walking in with Mum and Dad.

I’d gone fairly classic and simple with my wedding gown, so I wanted to make sure that I went all-out with my Laylia gown. I’d chosen Emerald Green Silk, and found a lace that matched it, which meant that I could design it around Elie Saab’s dress for Halle Berry and add a little more excitement (in the form of ruffled layers) to the skirt. After many dress fittings with a local dress maker, it felt just right, and it sure made my night walking into the hall to the sound of the Tubbel (the Lebanese drum) with my parents beside me and my relatives and friends ready to hit the dance floor!

Walking in with Tubbel.

Later on in the evening, my groom-to-be crashed my party (another tradition), hoisted onto the shoulders of his groomsmen and with his own Tubbel to mark his entrance. It was beautiful to see my Anglo-Australian family-to-be celebrate my customs – after all, we all love an excuse to party.

The groom arrives.

As the clock slowly ticked towards midnight, it was time for them to leave, but not before they tried to steal the bride. Stealth was used and tactic was employed, but knowing that going off to their party would bring dishonour on the wedding and my family (after all, tradition says that it can only be my father who lets me go, and that was what Sunday’s nuptials were for), I remained firmly footed in my side’s soiree, before winding the party down, and counting down the final day until I’d be Mrs Sarah Christie.

Dancing with the groom.