Yes, I'm a bride-to-be who had a stag do – so what?

In school, university and the workplace, men and women, boys and girls work and play together. So why can’t the same apply to pre-wedding celebrations?

Mixed gender pre-wedding celebrations are becoming more popular (Getty Images)

Amid all the debates, votes, and general bad-tempered chuntering about Brexit of the last few months, I’ve been planning my wedding. It has been a useful exercise in reminding me that normal life continues apace away from the Houses of Parliament; though often, the politics of Westminster pales in comparison to the stresses of putting together a functional table plan that won’t lead to bust-ups, all whilst not eating enough so you fit into a wedding dress (I’ve been low-level ravenous for approximately nine months now).

When I got engaged last year, I immediately set about contacting my nearest and dearest to inform them of the happy news...family and friends...male and female. When we finally celebrated our betrothal with engagement drinks, I invited my friends, male and female. When we drafted the invitation list for the wedding itself, again, I included both male and female friends. All standard procedure.

But when it comes to the bride and groom’s "official" pre-wedding celebrations, for the most part, we still split down gender lines; girls to the hen and boys to the stag. This has long baffled me. I suppose you could say I was a tomboy growing up; I played football and cricket with the boys on my road and balked at the idea of a Saturday spent shopping.

When one of my very best friends got engaged four years ago, I planned a hen for him. Just him and some girls hanging out in London for a day; we learned some parkour in Vauxhall, took a walking tour of street art in Shoreditch and enjoyed a 10 minute rave in a shipping container on the South Bank. It was the most London day that ever Londoned – and it was magnificent.

Following the success of that weekend, I knew that if I were to ever tie the knot, I would definitely want a celebration with the guys I know. And lo, I actually found someone who didn’t burst into raucous laughter at the notion of spending the rest of his life with me – so I set about all the important planning: venue, check; bridesmaids, check; caterer, check; lads for the stag, sorted.

When I told people about the plan, they couldn’t quite wrap their brains around it.

“So you’re getting all your friends together for one big celebration?” they’d ask. “No, no,” I responded, “just me and the boys.”

“Why aren’t you having a hen?” was often the next question; “I am having a hen, I’m just also having a stag,” I clarified. Cue shoulder shrugging and eye rolling, blank expressions of incomprehension or enigmatic smiles belying the judgement that I’m "out there".

I checked the date, confirmed it was, in fact, 2019 and wondered why on earth the thought of a woman wanting to celebrate a life milestone with friends of the opposite gender was such a big deal. I can’t quite fathom why more people don’t do this. In school, university and the workplace, men and women, boys and girls work and play together. Mixed gender pre-wedding celebrations are becoming more popular, with the portmanteaux of "sten" and "hag" now part of our vernacular when talking about a pre-nuptial knees-up, but they still remain rare.

Over recent years, gender equality has become a mainstream issue but the struggle definitely continues. Just last year, figures released showed just how bad the gender pay gap is. Nine out of ten women work for a company that pays them less and men still occupy the majority of higher-paid jobs. A report published by the Women and Equalities select committee in 2018 showed that 64 per cent of women have experienced sexual harassment in the street, with that figure rising to 85 per cent of women aged 18 to 24 years old.

Whilst there is a still a way to go in terms of achieving true gender equality, steps are being taken in the right direction. But, to be honest, we probably won’t get to where we need to be if people can’t handle the thought that a woman might want to celebrate her impending nuptials with a bunch of blokes in black tie.