Most traditional wedding dresses are meringues, but My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding (C4, 9pm) introduced a whole new category – the enormous Pavlova of a frock.

The skirts of the traveller girls' flowing white gowns are so wide they have their own time zones.

Bridgee, 16, has a dress so huge that she can't get down the stairs of her house without four people to help her – and that's before she tries to get out of the door.

"Nice and steady, Bridgee," says one helpful soul as he levers her into her horse-drawn carriage. Getting her out is a tricky operation too.

Thelma is the Vera Wang of wedding dress-makers for travellers, working from her shop in Liverpool.

Usually marrying at 16 or 17, traveller girls send her designs of their dream dresses and wedding themes. Because they're so young their tastes are a bit, well, juvenile.

Bridgee, who is marrying labourer Patrick, wants butterflies in her balloons, and a summer theme. "I love tropical blue and green so it will be all summery looking, because it's in March."

Brides compete to have the biggest dress. Some gowns, says Thelma, have weighed 27 stone. Yes, that's heavier than Rik Waller.

"The dresses are so heavy they leave scars," says Thelma.

This good-natured programme was fascinating on lots of levels: the sheer oh-my-God of the frocks, the explanation of the travellers' moral code as the girls shop for skimpy outfits, and the rubbish they had to put up with.

One reception venue cancelled just three days before Sammy Jo's wedding after finding out it was a traveller do. The poor girl's in tears and her mum, Elsie, was frantic.

Luckily she found somewhere else and the party was on. Sammy Jo's fitted dress broke with tradition. "All that fake diamante and those gloves like Power Rangers... tacky," she sniffs. "Me heart stopped – it missed a beat," said hubby Eli, 23. Aaah.

Joan's been planning her wedding since she was 13. She, too, has a monster dress. There's a pumpkin glass carriage at the end of the drive. "She's just like a big ball of fluff," says her dad.

There was a nice comic "get me to the church on time" bit, too. Paddy Doherty and his family headed off to another reception but they didn't know where.

"There's no invitation it's word of mouth," he explains. "That's what travellers are like. I don't know if there's 1,100 or 500 turning up."

It might be the beauty of it, but it's also a right pain.

"Where's the church?" asks one. "I dunno." "It's round here somewhere..." "Head for Wrexham…"