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I wish we had eloped.

It was supposed to be a private ceremony. Just seven barefoot brides on the beach vowing to love, honour and cherish ourselves.

Now everyone wants to know why we're getting married tomorrow. We're all exhausted from our stagette this week and there's still so much to be done. I haven't even had time to paint my nails.

We all have our own reasons for marrying ourselves. For some, these modern nuptials are an opportunity to dress up in a white gown and fulfill the romantic fantasy of being a princess for a day (without the hassle of a groom). For others, it is a performance piece, an expression of artistic creativity. For me, and I think my fellow brides-to-be agree, these individual unions are a celebration of womanhood and a toast to our independence.

None of us is currently married, although some have been before and might do it again. A few of us have boyfriends (mine is very confused). We are not opposed to the institution of marriage or trying to make a mockery of it. But let's face it. Traditions are changing -- for the better.

In our minds, it is essential to find happiness and fulfilment on your own before committing to another. We are fortunate for the opportunity, which many of our mothers never had, to live life to the fullest and not feel compelled to define ourselves by a man.

But let's not get too serious. For the most part, this is also a good excuse to throw a fabulous party.

The big event will take place tomorrow at Jericho Beach, around 2 p.m. (we hope). One of the great things about marrying yourself is that you can be late and change the rules as you go. We will arrive in a convertible red Cadillac, white veils flowing in the wind. After a private ceremony, at which we will read our own vows, we will swoon back to a lavish gourmet picnic with white linens. The set is being designed by two male friends. It should look quite dramatic. And why not?

"We need to make more room for ritual in our lives," says Tallulah, one of my fellow brides-to-be. "In this part of the world, there's really an absence of ceremony, and if you don't get married or have children, you really miss out."

I'll be bringing dainty tea sandwiches. Tallulah is making a three-tiered lemon-Madeira cake with fondant icing. There will be fine cheeses, salads and fresh fruit. And champagne, of course, provided we don't get busted. (A girlfriend who works for Moët & Chandon was so excited, she sent us four free bottles of rosé.) Gifts are optional.

The idea evolved out of a series of "goddess" dinners Tallulah has thrown. For the past two years, on the summer solstice, she invited a group of gals over for a lovely meal with everyone dressed up in formal evening wear.

For this year's event, someone suggested we wear wedding gowns. Our friend Melanie Talkington is a custom corset maker (I'll be wearing one of her creations). She has a huge collection of vintage corsets and wedding dresses. They were just sitting in her closet, crying out to be worn.

Once the white-wedding theme was established, we decided to move the dinner to the park. (The photos would turn out so much better.) Then we sent out an announcement to family and friends, inviting them to join us for a reception at 5 p.m. Now, it has snowballed out of control.

Newspapers and radio programs keep calling for interviews. Other women want to join us. Restaurant owners across the city are vying to throw our post-reception reception (we chose Nu, which is providing complimentary desserts and a glass of wine for the brides). Absolute Spa at the Century offered to do my makeup and hair for free, but I declined.

What started off as a semi-sacred event is turning into a circus. And we're thrilled. Who wants to be a blushing bride when you can be brazen?

Alexandra Gill is a feature writer for The Globe and Mail.