Bridesmaids have attracted a whole lot of attention of late here at The Hitch. Hell, one might even call it a trend. Something is stirring and she may or may not come sporting an Emma Hope mule.

Now I’ve never been a bridesmaid - possibly because I harbour no desire to be a bride - but I have friends who have shouldered the burden ceaselessly and the cruelty of the thing. Amnesty should send out biros on their behalf.

One girlfriend has done the deed eleven times. Eleven. Not only this, but, being an individual of the unintentionally single variety, her synchronised swimmer smile would start to crumble at around the first toast leading to none too figurative murder on the dance floor. And the outfits. Ye gods, the outfits. Another pal has done the works: nymphs and shepherds, several of the more punishing shades of apricot, Suzy Wong slut-fest, and, my own personal favourite, Buck Rogers-style pleather. (Are you feeling it, as they say in fashion parts?)

Why is it that we women do these things to each other? Friendships, sisterly relationships, these things are difficult enough without endeavouring to make people don ruched numbers and troop after you in spinster formation. Isn’t bridesmaidery just the illogical extension of the practice that sees grown women unable to use a lavatory unless in pairs? I’m getting married, and thus I require back up in the manner of French-plaited girl gang.

The Hitch urges bridesmaids everywhere to unite and share their pain. Send in those horror stories, girlfriends, dispatch those candid shots, either on a name and shame basis or with anonymity assured. Damn it, we will even black out eyes. You have nothing to lose but your (matching pearl) chains.

Contact TheHitch@thetimes.co.uk right here, right now.

Meanwhile, we have received the following compelling appeal:

Hello,

really interested to read your letter about sacking a bridesmaid because I've got the opposite problem. My sister has asked me to be a bridesmaid at her upcoming wedding and I don't want to do it. She's a lot younger than me, fiercely Christian and very judgemental and I really don't see eye to eye with her. She's always been very selfish and self-centred. I feel very strongly that she's making a bad decision getting hitched - she has only known her boyfriend for 6 months and no-one in our family likes him. He creeps me out like hell.

Obviously, I know that she's marrying him, not me, but I don't feel good about this whole thing. And neither do I feel good about being pushed around by her again as I feel she always behaves with me. Not to mention that she's not having a hen party (not Christian enough) and lives hundreds of miles away, so I'm not actually going to see her ‘til the night before the wedding, and don't know what kind of help I'm supposed to be giving.

Can I back out and, if so, how? I feel like a hypocrite at the moment.

Advice please, pronto,

Reluctant Bridesmaid.

Dear RB,

the sappy, group-hug response would be that a wedding provides the ideal opportunity to bury the hatchet and bond over the minutia of items borrowed and blue. Back in the real world, no sane person can deny that, if there are family issues a-festering, a wedding will be the occasion to bring them to an unseemly crise. Moreover, speaking as someone with sisters: get out now, girlfriend, with The Hitch’s blessing.

Obviously, were the wedding in the next few hours then this sort of behaviour would be a little rum. However, given that it’s still several months away, then you can back away from your big frock moment with impunity. I say hoist Little Ms Kumbaya with her own petard. Tell her that you’ve thought long and hard about the situation and feel that, as a Christian, the support she needs is spiritual, and something you can’t provide.

And you know what is truly beautiful about this scenario? This may even be true. Both of you may be the better for a spot of evasive action. Who knows, she may have asked you out of a thwarted sense of obligation and be relieved to have you stand down. On the other hand, however nutbar her behaviour, older sibdom may give you some sort of heroine status, so be gentle with her, albeit unwavering. Don’t get dragged into any “You always do this, beetch”-type historical debates concerning grudges past. Think of this as a surgical emotional strike. And have up your sleeve a service that you can comfortably offer to perform: a reading perhaps, or acoustic rendition of “If I Had a Hammer”.

And, should she give you any lip: younger sister getting married before her elders? Jane Austen wouldn’t have stood for it and neither will The Hitch.

Our original bridesmaid question and the correspondence it inspired.

Dear Hitch,

can you sack a bridesmaid? Mine is unhelpful, uncooperative and hates any bridesmaid dresses I suggest. Help.

Yours, Bemused Bride.

Dear Bemused,

what she is missing here is that for the next few months this woman should be Anna to your Dido, Fairy Godmother to your Cinderella, Thelma to your Louise. If you were in prison (and, let’s hope for the sake of the canapés that you aren’t) this woman would be your bitch.

What is the situation here? If this is an unmarried bridesmaid then it is possible that she is in the mother of all sulks and her behaviour is a passive-aggressive way of indicating: “This should have been me”. Should she be a married flower maiden, then she may be doing that supremely annoying thing that some women do of imagining that when she ties the knot / spawns nippers / fits a kitchen then this is exciting; however, by the time you get around to such things, they are old hat. Either way, I think we can agree that this lazy-assed bint had better get with the programme.

Meet her on neutral, gin-sling abetted territory. Opening gambits include: “I love your hair / have you lost weight? / that waiter can’t keep his eyes off you”, to be closely followed by the phrase: “I thought it might help to make clear the kind of support I most need”. Remember, you are a bride, so you too could be being a maniac. Be specific, but be realistic too: remember, the woman has a job, and a life and everything. A reasonable inventory might run: “Help me pick my dress. Take charge of the hen night. Contain my mother on the morning. Walk behind me up the aisle”. It does not involve daily conversations about the designs in which confetti can be purchased. At the close of the evening, equip her with a basic rubric and make her pick her own damn frock.

And, if she still doesn’t shape up her ideas? Tell her you’ve been thinking you might appoint a best woman. Not to distract attention away from the beautiful bridesmaid, of course, it’s just that there’s so much that needs doing.

Reader feedback

My cousin fired me as her bridesmaid. She insisted on having purple dresses. I told her that the colour was more suitable for a funeral rather than a wedding and I wasn't fair like herself either. This made no difference whatsoever. Nor was I willing to pay a fortune for a horrible dress that I'd never wear again. In the end she sent me a letter telling me she'd found another friend who was willing and happy with her choices. This ended our close relationship for over a decade. I only spoke to her years later when I saw her waddling home in the hot midday sun. She was eight months pregnant and living in servants’ quarters. They had no car either. Unfortunately, she had married an alcoholic and the marriage ended in divorce a few years later. Today we're as close as ever. We're both older & wiser.

Ingrid, Cape Town, SOUTH AFRICA.

The last thing you need on your wedding day is a bridesmaid with an agenda! It's your day, don't let anyone ruin it! Trust me I've been there!

Liz, Bristol.

I was fired as a bridesmaid after finally tactfully standing up to the Bridezilla (a best friend of 15 years). She insisted I wear an old dress of hers (size 18) when I was a 10. Up to that point, I had quietly endured hell and humiliation including her hen night where I was expected to buy the drinks and her future sister-in law insisted loudly that she was more qualified for the job. Despite the fact that her fiancé backed me up, she told me my services were no longer required. We never spoke again. Is it worth ruining a friendship?

Sam, Cardiff.

Donkey's years ago, well about 35 or so, my friend Ruth who was a very proper “Bostonian” was getting married. I'm sure her mother approved of me, we'd ironed out some really difficult kinks in our relationship, and Mom, being Mom, had watched that. I was invited up to Boston a week before the wedding to help Ruth out: I was laid back and not hung up by appearances, and helped my friend to laugh when Granny left her teeth in a glass because she was forgetful ( but "all there"). I stayed the week and then got the feeling of abandonment - but I'd done my job. Later I did the same, as needed for my other two best friends who hadn't left the country. (Well, one did, but Partner, now Husband and I got a lovely improvised holiday out of it and we met up with bride and groom in Harry's Bar in Venice. We'd started off in Courmayeur! It was quite a trip! Wonderful!)

Carlyle Braden, Croydon, U.K.

Maybe she does not want to be a bridesmaid. I can still remember, after over thirty years, the embarrassment of having to be matron of honour for my sister-in-law. No choice was given to me or to my husband’s brother’s wife who shared the honours; we were told we were doing it. Despite being newly married and broke at the time I had to purchase a dress I never wore again and we followed her down the aisle, not knowing where to stand or really what function we performed. There were no other bridesmaids, just us two lemons. It was awful.

It’s easy to insult the bridesmaid, when maybe it’s the bride who's a real cow. Luckily I can count on one finger the number of times I am likely to see my sister-in-law again and that’s one time too many according to her own brother.

Di, Andover, Hants.

This is so funny, I splurted my tea out laughing - can totally relate to it.

Olivia Taff, Birmingham.

Splurt it onto that lilac satin creation, Olivia baby, and write back to tell us more. All anecdotes, images and the like benevolently received at TheHitch@thetimes.co.uk