Hang onto your veils, girlfriends. The number of adults choosing to get hitched has fallen to the lowest level since records began, according to figures released this morning by the Office for National Statistics.

In 2005 there were a mere 244,710 marriages, compared to 273,070 in 2004, and 242,764 in 1896. Almost two thirds of these unions were the first for both parties, with remarriages accounting for a fifth of all knot tyings. Religious ceremonies accounted for 46% of first time marriages, up from 42% in 2004. The trend to marry later continues to be in evidence. During the last decade, the average age at which to marry has increased by just over three years for men, just under three for women, making the average groom 36.2 years, his bride 33.6.

How do we feel about these stats, Hitchers O’ My Heart? What does it mean to be gearing up to getting spliced at a time when so many other people are opting out? Any child brides out there want to defend an early hitching? I insist that you email TheHitch@thetimes.co.uk with your thoughts.

Meanwhile, by way of a bridal bitch fight...

WEDDING BELLS: YES OR NO?

YES! bellows Hannah Strange, taking time out from lining her bottom drawer

I first began to dream of the perfect wedding at the age of six, when Edward, a boy in my class, offered me a pencil to do my homework and said he would marry me if I took it. After a brief moment of consideration I accepted, and the engagement continued in a platonic fashion for some time, until I eventually decided that Edward had a big forehead and was unnaturally short and therefore not the one for me. By eight I was fantasising about the honeymoon – I clearly remember a family boating holiday on the Norfolk Broads on which I decided that it would be the perfect setting to indulge in newly-wedded bliss. I spent much of the rest of the holiday flicking through the brochures considering which boat would make the ideal love nest, even speculating on how much we would be able to afford.

The goalposts have now shifted and I am more likely to choose the Maldives for my post-nuptial retreat than East Anglia, but the point remains the same – like many females out there, I regularly fantasise about getting married, not for the glamorous party, but for the deep sense of romance it entails. I know exactly where I want to get married (an island off the Dorset coast), what kind of dress I will wear (simple, elegant and white), who will be my bridesmaids and what music will be played. I have worked out an approximation of the guest-list (well, my half anyway) and what I will do for my hen night (no L-plates or bridal veils). All that remains in question is the identity of the groom, though over the years I have slotted almost every boyfriend I have had in there to try them for size.

Now before I am dismissed as a fantasist bunny-boiler, I must point out that I do not necessarily think that any of this is going to happen, at least not in the way I envisage. Like any woman who imagines being snatched away by a dashing Johnny Depp in full Pirates of the Caribbean get-up, this is a daydream, a fantasy to bring a little excitement to the duller moments in life. But although, in reality, I am in no great hurry to get married, I do see it as a natural evolution of any serious relationship, and would be devastated if it didn’t happen at all. I never understand my friends (the tiny minority) who say they have no desire to get married – what woman wouldn’t want a gorgeous man with whom she was deeply in love to stand up in a romantic setting, in front of friends and family, and declare he will love her to death and beyond? Isn’t this the archetype of love to which we all aspire and which has defined our literature, our movies, our art, since time began?

I could list all the practical – though distinctly less sentimental – reasons to get hitched, such as security for children or tax benefits. But while these are legitimate considerations, they are not, for me, the true source of my pro-marriage inclinations. When my cousin got married to his Brazilian girlfriend a few years ago, the ceremony was in Portuguese and completely indecipherable to me – and to the groom himself. But when it was time to say his vows, he delivered them in a possibly imperfect but heartfelt Portuguese, and within seconds my eyes were welling with tears. I was crying because this boy, who used to tease me by putting worms down my dress and pulling my hair, had matured into a wonderful man capable of feeling and expressing an unending love for a woman he was ready to commit to for the rest of his life.

If and when I do get married, it will be because I love the person I am with enough to want to join my life to his and embark upon the turbulent journey of marriage together, with all the problems, arguments and unromantic practicalities that that entails. It is by making such a commitment and pushing through the hard times together that the early stages of love develop into something more fundamental and binding. And that, I believe, is the most romantic thing that any two people can do.

NOOOO! roars Samantha Lyster whose friends need not go buying hats

It’s not that I’m against the concept of marriage, just the wrong reasons for entering into it. And there are many, many wrong reasons for walking up the aisle.

Top of the list of wrong reasons is attention. Throughout a girl’s life, you are told that getting wed is Your Special Day. As though this is the only opportunity to wear a fab frock and have people say nice things about you. Has no one heard of birthdays? If you are desperate to sample a little of the WAG lifestyle by looking flawless in an expensive dress while people take pictures of you every five minutes, throw extravagant birthday parties. Hire a venue and photographer for the night and put it all on your myspace page. This way, you can have a special day every year.

The next, very wrong reason for getting married is competitiveness. There is a myth that males are more competitive then females – whoever started that rumour obviously never visited Selfridges’ shoe department at sale time. There you will see in all its rawness women’s competitive streak as they elbow one another out of the way of half-price Gucci sandals. Make no mistake, from the playground to the office, women are sizing each other up and when it hits wedding season, men are mere pawns in the game of one-upmanship. Once one friend announces her engagement, the bar is set for all her female friends to get in on the action. The question of whether you actually want to spend the rest of your life with your boyfriend gets lost among seating arrangements and cake sampling. An acquaintance attended a wedding so lavish, with so many guests, that the bride and groom had to wear mikes when saying their vows so everyone could hear them. Some 18 months later, they filed for divorce.

Then there is getting married because you are gripped by panic/insecurity/the need for a quiet life. It’s normally men who get married for the latter reason, and usually because their girlfriends are suffering from the former. After four years or so and no sign of a Tiffany box, a certain type of woman will come up with an ultimatum: either you marry me, or I’ll leave and find someone who will. So the guy, who is quite happy with the living together arrangement, will acquiesce and propose as he doesn’t fancy going back to being a bachelor in a crap flat, and having to play the numbers game in nightclubs he’s too old for. For women who have given into the mentality that marriage will lessen their feelings of loneliness or inadequacy, I would offer a present of therapy vouchers. A piece of paper will not make up for the parents who never showed you enough love, or prevent you from being 40 and spending Saturday night with a cat for company.

Getting hitched may also be a misguided attempt to alter a partner’s behaviour. So many examples and not enough space to list them, but of my favourites is the chap whose partner has a clinical mental disorder, but somehow thinks that marrying her and getting her pregnant will succeed where powerful psychotic drugs have failed. Another gem is the woman whose partner would rather spend his nights out partying with music industry mates but is hoping that a wedding ring will suddenly make him want to stay at home with her, a nice bottle of red and a DVD. Granted, these are examples of human optimism, but I’m afraid a marriage certificate is not a magic wand to wave over incompatible couples to make them come good. Marriage should not be treated as a Band Aid for a relationship that isn’t working.

The most terrible reason for getting married is love. I’ve enjoyed wonderful, passionate love with former boyfriends, all of whom would have made terrible husbands. Love will not get you through those days when the washing machine has blown-up, the kids are throwing tantrums and work is demanding your soul. However, strength of character, a good sense of humour and common interests will. Marriage is about knowing that the person in front of you genuinely wants only happiness for you, will support you, as you will them and is willing to share everything that life will throw up, good and bad. If instinct tells you that you’re not going to get any of these things, then put on hold the fireworks display, 12-piece funk band and matching table centrepieces because life as a wife or husband will be exhausting and ultimately unsatisfying. The only winner is the divorce lawyer.