Recently, I had the honour of being asked to MC a wedding.
Which came as a bit of a shock, given “admin” isn’t one of my skills.
In fact, a lot of people, including my boss, would say I couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery or a

A wedding in a woolshed is as Kiwi as it gets. Photo / Glenn Dwight
Recently, I had the honour of being asked to MC a wedding.
Which came as a bit of a shock, given “admin” isn’t one of my skills.
In fact, a lot of people, including my boss, would say I couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery or a Zoom meeting in an Outlook calendar.
I did point this out to the bride.
She simply said, “Don’t stress. This is a party at a wedding.”
I remember thinking how bloody Kiwi that was.
In fact, if it were any more Kiwi, it would have jandal tan lines and a Buzzy Bee missing one wheel.
Which, now that I think about it, would make a great country song.
But that one sentence about a party at a wedding pretty much sums up what makes a Kiwi wedding.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about people having a bloody good time, friends and family having fun together.
So, standing there with a microphone got me thinking about what actually makes these weddings work.
What are the ingredients that turn a ceremony and a feed into a proper Kiwi knees-up?
First, the MC - mainly because I have recent experience.
Despite popular belief, the MC is not there to perform stand-up comedy or deliver a Ted Talk. They are there for one main reason: to tell people where the toilets are. Because once that Prosecco seal is popped, that information becomes critical.
They also have another very important role. To make sure Uncle Steve doesn’t get hold of the microphone.
You see, every Kiwi wedding has an Uncle Steve.
He is a good bloke. He means well and is wearing his going-out Aertex shirt. He has had a few beers.
He has a story he thinks is hilarious and definitely not racist, which usually turns out to be slightly racist, not that funny, and slurred to the point that subtitles would be helpful.
His speech will always begin with the words, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” which is never true and never ends well.
Then there is the celebrant.
Kiwi celebrants are like a Hilux. Business up front before the party out back.
They keep things moving, set the tone, and make sure the important legal bits are covered before everyone heads off to celebrate.
They will talk about love and commitment, but they will also happily mention how the couple met at a mate’s birthday or bonded over a shared dislike of spicy foods.
Next up on the Kiwi wedding essentials list is the venue.
And this is where things have changed over the years.
The woolshed has become the hero of the modern Kiwi wedding, and rightly so.
A woolshed has history. It has space. It forgives noise.
It looks better the more fairy lights you hang in it. And it does not panic if someone spills a drink or the dance floor gets a bit enthusiastic.
A woolshed says this is a celebration, not a performance. It is honest. It is practical. It does not pretend to be something it is not.
And it pairs perfectly with a band, a bar and people who plan to party on until the break of dawn.

Speaking of bands, no Kiwi wedding is complete without live music.
And no matter what the band promises in advance, no matter how many times they swear they will not play it, there will come a moment when someone yells out, “Play Wagon Wheel”.
It is not optional. Wagon Wheel is the law.
As Sonny Curtis once sang, “I fought the law and the law won”.
So don’t fight it. Get on board the wagon and love the Wagon Wheel.
Because the second “Rock me mama” is sung, the dance floor fills. Arms go around shoulders. Lyrics are shouted with confidence and very little accuracy.
It is the universal signal that the night is about to go off.
Food is another area where Kiwi weddings quietly excel.
This is not the place for tiny portions or mystery sauces. This is food designed to feed people properly.
After all, Wagon Wheel dancing burns calories.
There will be meat. There will be salads made by committee. There will be bread rolls. And if you are lucky, there will be lolly cake.
At this particular wedding, a lolly cake made an appearance, and it was a highlight.
There is something wonderfully Kiwi about lolly cake at a wedding. It clearly says party at a wedding.
Which raises an important question. Why are we not seeing lolly cake wedding cakes?
If this is not already a thing, let us make it a thing. A delicious thing.

Of course, a Kiwi wedding does not run without people pitching in.
Someone’s uncle built the bar. Someone’s cousin sorted the sound system. Someone else had a ute that could move tables.
There is always a moment when someone says, “She’ll be right”, and everyone agrees, even though nobody is entirely sure what “right” looks like.
Then come the speeches.
An emotional roller coaster of laughs, danger, and tears.
The bridesmaid’s speech reminds us exactly who the bride was at 7 years old.
We hear about kindness, friendship and childhood stories.
It is safe, affectionate and impossible to dislike.
The best man speech, on the other hand, could go anywhere. It might be a roast. It might be a toast. It might accidentally be both.
The room and the groom always hold their breath for a moment, just in case.
Then the bride’s parents speak, and suddenly everyone is emotional.
Pride, gratitude and a line that brings the room to tears. Unless you were born without feeling.
Finally, the groom wraps it all up, thanking everyone who made the day happen, including the band, the venue and, importantly, the team in the kitchen.
Next, the wedding car. I personally would push for a Trekka, but the reason you don’t see this piece of Kiwi engineering genius very often is hidden in that word “push”.
The bride and bridesmaids pushing a Trekka up a gravel driveway is not the image the photographer is hoping to capture of the bride’s arrival.
So instead, we play it safe and borrow Uncle Peter’s Kia. He even ran it through the BP car wash for the big day.
There we have it. The classic Kiwi wedding. A party at a wedding. A chance for people to come together and celebrate love.
So, I raise my pen to Michael and Annelise. Great humans, a step up from great New Zealanders.
Thanks for the reminder that a wedding is really just a chance to celebrate, and that is what makes a Kiwi wedding bloody brilliant.
-Glenn Dwight is the studio creative director – regional at NZME and an occasional writer for The Country.