Married under the painted sky — with a rum bottle emoji to thank for it.
A half-one ceremony in Òran Mór's Auditorium on a bright May Saturday — Alasdair Gray's midnight-blue mural overhead, a flower arch at the front, fairy lights down the walls, and guests who'd flown all the way from Australia in the pews. Carrie Macdonald sang the bridal party in, Rebecca walked down the aisle with her dad Duncan — and Stuart, a man who famously does not do attention, stood at the front of one of Glasgow's most dramatic rooms and didn't seem to mind one bit.
Their story
It began, as so many of the best modern love stories do, with two people swiping yes. Tuesday the 1st of December 2020: Rebecca — Milngavie, working with children with additional support needs — made the first move and messaged Stuart, an electrician in Bishopton. They agreed to meet that Saturday, and the first date became instant legend. Rebecca arrived at Stuart's flat armed with prosecco and a bottle of rum; Stuart, a beer man who had never really drunk rum in his life, was persuaded through most of the bottle, spent some quality time with the bathroom floor, passed out on the sofa, and briefly woke just long enough to accuse Rebecca of stealing from his flat. Rebecca — to her eternal credit — stayed, looked after him, and texted the next morning with a single rum-bottle emoji. Stuart had genuinely assumed he'd never hear from her again. Instead, that wee emoji was the beginning of everything: meeting the families, moving in together within months, and — after one brief five-week fallout they now agree was absolutely ridiculous — never falling out again. In 2022 came Milo, a Labrador puppy who chewed through both their belongings with zero remorse, and in October 2024 they bought their first home together in Bishopton.
The proposal
Stuart did it properly. He went to Rebecca's dad Duncan for his blessing — then handed Duncan the ring to keep safe for months, which is a bold level of trust in your future father-in-law. When the moment came, he chose their favourite place on earth: Marbella, October 2024, just the two of them on their hotel balcony with the Spanish sun going down. No crowd, no performance — not Stuart's style — just one knee, one question, and one resounding yes.
The ceremony
A handfasting beneath the mural — one loop for Stuart's love, one for Rebecca's, one for everyone in the room — then the declarations, the rings, and the kiss. The secrets they'd shared with me got the laughs they deserved: Rebecca loves that Stuart is selfless and utterly driven, though the man has no patience whatsoever ("luckily I have patience for the both of us"); Stuart loves her contagious laugh and the fact she makes him laugh every day, though she is, quote, lovably accident-prone. And the single most important reason for the wedding, which Rebecca insisted I share with the room: after a lifetime of spelling S-O-O-M-A-N down the phone to call centre staff, she is now, gloriously, Rebecca Hughes. Kiera Burns was behind the camera all day.
Planning an Òran Mór wedding?
Òran Mór is two minutes from my front door in Kelvinbridge — my most local venue and one of my favourite rooms in Glasgow to work. I've written a full venue guide to Òran Mór with everything I know from the front of that Auditorium — and because I can walk there, couples booking me for Òran Mór pay no travel fees at all. Read up on the paperwork, have a look at the handfasting guide, and come say hello.