The trials and tribulations of grooms and their buttonholes

I’ve identified a consistent phenomenon in photographing weddings; I’ve identified many consistent patterns as one might expect, but the one I have in mind here has the makings of an anthropological study in its own right. Men and buttonholes; they just don’t get on (often-times even after they’ve been put on). I’ll emphasise quickly that my aim here is certainly not to mock or to ridicule but it is to share empathy and to collate a document of the joy and mirth that can stem from the perennial battle of wits between man and decorative plant.

When all is said and done it’s only fair to consider the notion that men, typically, are just not accustomed to appending flowers to their clothing. Being of Celtic extraction, and male myself, at a young age it was the norm to pin a vegetable to my lapel on the first day of March each year. Traditionally both girls and boys could sport a daffodil on St. David’s Day though the latter, bearing the weight of gender stereotyping on their shoulders, would most often opt for a leek. Most of us would then proceed to munch on the pungent Allium throughout the day – daffodils taste awful; we knew through experience – and later work through several packs of chewing gum in a vain attempt to neutralise our breath.

That digression aside we were also accustomed to sporting a paper poppy on Remembrance Day but that was a far simpler matter altogether than an ornate and delicate freshly cut flower.

So on to the raw material I harvest as I set about a long term project to develop a taxonomy of the manifold coping mechanisms that men might bring to bear in their relationships with their wedding day buttonholes – the pictorial evidence. By the way, it’s certainly not limited to grooms as the title at first suggests! :~)

As I've already inferred there's nothing whatsoever to be embarrassed about in finding oneself unfamiliar with the process of attaching a buttonhole. However, the "Oh my word I'm a grown man and just about to get married and I can't attach a flower to my lapel" look is gold dust for the wedding album! :~)

The sartorially nonchalant approach. What else are pockets for? Fitting a plant pot in there might have been a tight squeeze though.

Maybe not even the most rigidly attached buttonhole could withstand the rigours of a wedding day beach landing though.

It did its duty and succumbed in a glorious fashion.

The phenomenon doesn't just apply to floral decorations. Sometimes you just have to keep your chin up and adopt a stiff upper lip approach to having one of your fellow wedding guests sort out the knot in your tie for you.

When it's your sister-in-law's wedding day and your wife, the bride's sister, has been in charge of all the floral arrangements, you already know who's going to be attaching the thing to you.

The debonair approach, when you're so at ease with yourself you allow your wife to attach your buttonhole without even a fleeting hint of embarrassment.

But it's a flower being attached to your suit; the composure is going to falter some time!

A poignant portrait if I dare say so. So I've fathered two daughters and a son, they've all grown up into fine adults themselves, the first daughter has married and borne me grandchildren and now it's time to give away the second daughter, and just what am I meant to do with this thing?

It's a good thing I trained my son well.

Notice how the bride is flowing with confidence, absolutely loving her dress to the maximum, bearing her bouquet with quintessential poise.

Beauty, grace and ease indeed :~)

Plenty more to come, I’m sure :~)

Contact Bournemouth wedding photographer Phillip Allen : phill@misterphill.com : 07870 696248