TWEEDY MARRIES COLE AND WE'RE FEELING SORRY FOR ANTHEA TURNER

Everyone turned on Anthea Turner when she turned her wedding into little more than a stunt to promote Cadbury's Snowflake. Since then, Anthea has been forced to take any work she can (BBC Three, and her once a prime-time poppet) while Cadburys attempted to win back sales by not bothering to fix the leaky waste-water pipe on the grounds that if they could flog Fry's Turkish Delight as a sweet snack, a bit of salmonella wasn't going to prove a problem.

While Turner was pilloried, nobody seems very upset that Cheryl Tweedy and Ashley Cole have pretty much turned their wedding into some sort of PR dream by using it to cap a week advertising the frankly unintelligble Dream Numbers game from the National Lottery and the horribly undrinkable Coke Zero from Bill Cosby's Coca-Cola company. Anyway, they finally tied the knot yesterday, "amid tight security", apparently. To keep out Nadine Coyle, we suppose.

Except it wasn't the actual wedding - like Charles and Camilla, they did the formal paperwork one first, and then had a faux-wedding, just for show, like they were a pretend couple. They had to do it like this, apparently, because Victoria Beckham isn't legally allowed to conduct marriage services in the UK, even while riding a unicorn.

The horror, though, as several dozen Hot Stars regulars were forced to use portable toilets:

Historic Wrotham Park, where movies Bridget Jones and Gosford Park were filmed, refused to wave its strict rule banning the use of its indoor toilets, forcing all 300 of Ashley and Cheryl's A-list guests to use temporary ones erected OUTSIDE in tents.

Good God, have the people at Wrotham Park never heard the sound of two hundred bullimics throwing up wedding cake in a tent?

The pair's PR and management people tried to throw snappers off the scent by arranging an even more pretend wedding in Highclere Castle:

In a bid for total privacy to protect their £2.25million exclusive rights deal with a magazine, Ashley and Cheryl even ordered marquees to be erected at the castle to fool the media into thinking the ceremony was being held there.

The interesting definition of privacy, there, would be The condition of being left alone and out of public view until the cheque is cleared and the weekly magazine published.

Inevitably, though, there was a chink in the steel wall around the wedding:

Sales manager Dino Macaretto, 38, who lives next door to the chapel, said: "I can't believe what I am seeing. I can't believe someone would go to all this trouble just to not get photographed. A girl's wedding day is supposed to be special but I can't see how this could be seen as that. It's like a rugby scrum. We saw her ankles and shoes as she climbed out of the carriage. My three little boys thought it was a hoot but just couldn't understand what was going on."

Minders from the Tweedy-Cole Wedding Company have since been dispatched with powerful mind-erasers to sweep the thoughts of Tweedy's ankle from Dino's mind, in case he attempts to describe it to a police artist and reconstructions start to leak online.

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