The bridal shop was exactly what I expected, overly luxurious, filled with silk and lace and the strong scent of overpriced perfume that made my nose tickle. Women walked around sipping champagne while stylists fluttered over them, draping them in fabrics that probably cost more than my rent.

Mum was in her element.

“Oh, finally,” she said as I walked in. “Come, come, sit! I’m about to try on the next dress.”

I slumped into one of the plush chairs, exhaling as I pulled out my phone.

If she was serious about this whole bridal shower thing, she needed to do it right.

I pulled up a quick search:

When...