The other day I got an email that made my blood boil.

“In a world obsessed with curated perfection, one bride is rewriting the rules – and saving serious cash while doing so. Jodie Atkinson threw a stunning, Instagram-worthy engagement party for just over £100 by shopping exclusively on Temu. From disco balls to dried flowers, she slashed her décor budget by 87%, all without sacrificing style or wow factor. Her story taps into a growing trend: brides breaking free from social media pressure and embracing authenticity (and affordability). With weddings now averaging £26,583 in the UK, Jodie’s approach could be the breath of fresh air brides need. Would you be interested in covering this timely, relatable piece on how Temu is helping people celebrate big moments without the big price tag?“

Spoiler: I was not interested. But I did reply with a counter-proposal:

“No thanks. Companies like Temu are destroying the planet and undercutting and ripping off hard working small businesses in an already struggling industry. I’d be interested in publishing a timely, relatable piece on how Temu is doing that if you’d like?”

Funnily enough, they didn’t write back.

I was just trolling with my response of course, but here we are. Because maybe I do want to talk about it after all.

Let’s get real: everyone loves a bargain. I’m not pretending I’ve never ordered from Shein or TikTok Shop (I’m pleased to report a Temu delivery has never darkened my doorstep, though). This isn’t about being a perfect, holier-than-thou eco-saint. It’s about balance. It’s about responsibility. It’s about thinking before we fill our carts with 17 “wedding must-haves” that’ll be in landfill before the thank-you cards go out.

Because while these platforms might be cheap, the cost doesn’t stop at checkout. There’s a reason it’s £1.28 for a gold plastic “Mr & Mrs” sign – and it’s not because a local craftsperson is being fairly paid or because it was ethically made with sustainable materials. It’s because it was mass-produced in a factory with questionable standards and shipped halfway across the globe in layers of single-use plastic.

Temu, Shein, Wish – whatever the name, the model is the same. Ultra-low prices made possible by a race to the bottom: in wages, in quality, in environmental impact. And now we’re seeing it flood into the wedding space. £100 for an entire party’s worth of décor? That’s not a budget hack. That’s a red flag.

But let’s also acknowledge the nuance. There are times when these platforms fill a gap. If you’re plus-size, for example, mainstream bridal fashion can be a wasteland. If the only place you can find something that fits and makes you feel good is on Shein, then go for it. No shame here. Accessibility matters. And it’s never on the individual to fix a broken system.

What I am questioning is the bulk-buying culture that’s crept into weddings. Do you really need 150 disco balls, 300 LED candles, and three kilos of plastic faux eucalyptus? Probably not. Are you buying it because you love it or because some TikTok told you that “your guests will die over this trend”? Weddings aren’t group projects remember. You don’t need to impress the internet.

So if you do shop from these platforms for your wedding, do it consciously. Ask yourself: do I need this? Can I borrow, reuse, buy second-hand, or shop small instead? Honestly, so much of this stuff is showing up on Vinted and in charity shops now that why not look there first? Or, could you just skip it entirely? Because when you look back at your wedding photos in 50 years, you probably don’t want to see an ocean of shiny, meaningless plastic crap behind every smile. You want to see people. Moments. Things that actually said something about who you are and your relationship. You know, the stuff that actually mattered.

Overconsumption isn’t just about buying more than you need, it’s about a system that constantly convinces you that what you have isn’t enough. That you need new, better, more – especially when it comes to milestone moments like weddings. It’s a marketing machine powered by scarcity, status and the idea that this one day has to be “the best day ever.” The result? An endless scroll of must-haves, trend lists, panic purchases and personalised tat that ends up in a bin bag the next morning.

The wedding industry thrives on this. New décor for every event. Multiple outfit changes. Matching signage for the hen, the welcome party, the wedding, the brunch the morning after… Disposable trends that cycle fast and burn bright. It’s no surprise that the average UK wedding now creates over 20kg of single-use plastic waste per couple. Add to that the carbon cost of rushed deliveries, cheap imports, and fast fashion, and suddenly that “budget-friendly” option looks a bit more toxic than trendy.

A cool, memorable, Instagrammable (if that’s your goal) wedding doesn’t require a mountain of cheap stuff. It requires intention. Meaning behind your choices. Creativity. And the guts to ignore the trending “must-haves” and overconsumption-fuelled wedding hauls, and make your day yours.

So please do shop where you want. Just do so with your eyes open.