With This Ring, I Thee… Disappoint?
One of the big wedding things that I really, really don’t envy you men folk having to deal with is the selection of the engagement ring. Talk about pressure. I mean this little piece of jewellery is going to be on your lady’s finger forever. If you get it wrong it could also be one of the most expensive mistakes of your life.
Of course, a lot of blokes these days buy a cheap, placeholder ring for the actual proposal and then take the lucky lady shopping. But there’s nothing quite like the romance of popping the question with the sparkler of her dreams. Countless smushy romance films have convinced us that this is the pinnacle of proposal perfection.
If you want to go for the Hollywood proposal, you better start scoping out your girlfriend’s jewellery box pronto to avoid a lukewarm reception, not only to get the right style, but to get the right size.
However, if you aren’t blessed with psychic powers and/or sufficient snooping skills, you might consider another option. Mitch and I had been talking about getting married for a while, so it was never going to be a bona-fide surprise, and after some initial internet browsing and furtive peering through jewellers’ windows he decided that, on balance, he was a bit lost.
Solution? Multiple choice.
I picked three different rings I loved in equal measure, and he ‘surprised’ me with one. After carrying it around in his pocket for three months. And forgetting to bring it with him on the ‘proposal’ holiday he’d been planning for weeks. Anyone else would think that he was finding excuses, but he assures me he was just waiting for ‘the perfect place.’
The eventual proposal was in the slightly odd setting of a hotel room on the Wolvercote roundabout off the Oxford ring road. Unorthodox, yet strangely brilliant.
And I really, really like the ring.
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