I adore being a wedding guest. In fairness, I realise we’re not allowed to admit otherwise. If you don’t toe the party line, you don’t get to go to the buffet. Claiming that you don’t like attending weddings is worse than saying that you hate Christmas, or that the sound of children laughing and playing makes you want to remove your own ears with nail scissors.

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Weddings can be challenging if you don’t like bunting, or you wish to have full jurisdiction over your bank holidays. But every single person who attends a wedding has the chance to appear in the final scenes of a romantic comedy. You can write your own silly jokes, choose your own special headgear and escape from reality with the help of lukewarm white wine and overcooked chicken. In 2019, wedding venues are the only places left in the UK where you know that you can turn up and most people will be in a good mood.

So perhaps it’s not surprising that we fun-sponge millennials are eschewing them. A study from Spare Room has found that 44% of millennial renters have turned down invitations to their friends’ weddings. Is it because we hate fun? Are we drinking so little that we become confused and overwhelmed in open bar situations? Frightened that the venue won’t have a wifi code? No, we’re just broke. 31% of people surveyed were in debt as a result of attending weddings. 15% had had to move out of the property they rented because of the cost incurred. The saddest finding? 62% of those who sent an RSVP to say “no” said that not attending had cost them their friendship with the couple.

The expense of being a wedding guest is well documented. Earlier this year, a study found that the average cost of attending a UK wedding is £391. Even if you’ve managed to get your hands on a millennial railcard, the journey to and from the wedding could absorb half of that sum – and that’s before you’ve dealt with the demands of the sole taxi company who will charge £30 to pick you up from the Premier Inn and then abandon you three fields from your destination marquee. You can promise yourself that you won’t buy a new outfit, but you’ll either spend the cost of an Asos spree on getting your old one dry cleaned, or you’ll worry about looking shabby and spend approximately £10,000 on pashminas and fascinators at Euston Accessorize, as though you’re literally planning to party like it’s 1999.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘Even if you’ve managed to get your hands on a millennial railcard, the journey to and from the wedding can leave you completely out of pocket.’ Photograph: Alamy Stock Photo

Last year the average salary of a 30-year-old was £23,700. We typically spend a third of our take-home pay on rent (41% for Londoners). Do the maths. On a millennial budget, two nights in a Travelodge in peak season starts to seem as ludicrous and unattainable as a fortnight in Mauritius. If you have more than one friend getting married in any given year, you’ll have to make some difficult choices. Which event do you attend? Which organ do you sell first?

It’s a lazy conclusion to draw, but I blame Instagram. Wedding guests increasingly treat the occasion as an opportunity for a personal photo shoot. Many of us have to treat weddings like holidays because we can only afford one or the other (I’m not sure if there’s a wedding photo equivalent of #hotdoglegs, but I assume it’s a mirror selfie taken in a B&B, carefully cropped in order to remove the reflection of a vintage Corby trouser press.)

The trouble is that the bar has been raised to an unreachable height. Once upon a time we would have turned up on the Megabus, in a sixth-form prom dress, danced to Agadoo with someone’s inappropriate uncle and then passed out in a Portaloo – an experience that cost about £20. Now we have to worry about what to wear to the post-wedding Friends and Family Boat Brunch and find a gift that is a) meaningful b) aesthetically perfect and c) demonstrably not from Debenhams. It’s easy for other generations to tell us to simply resist the pressure of the wedding industrial complex, but most of the time it’s easier for us to just not go.

Ten years ago, I was invited to be a bridesmaid at a wedding in the US. The bride was the first of my peers to get married, and I accepted in the spirit of yolo and fomo, before the expressions had been coined. Magical, romantic memories, I reasoned, were worth any amount of credit card debt. I finished paying for that wedding two years after the couple got divorced. I learned a valuable lesson. There is nothing magical or romantic about lying awake at 3am wondering which of your possessions to sell first.

Money is constantly cited as one of the most common sources of conflict within a romantic relationship. If a couple can’t maintain a friendship with someone who is making an effort to live within their means, it does not augur well for their relationship. If your friends pressure you into spending more than you can afford in order to attend their wedding, you might find yourself, like me, with a debt that outlasts the marriage. If your friend decides that they can’t afford to come to your celebration, respect their decision and acknowledge that they have given you some priceless life advice. True love might be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but Visa bills come every single month.

• Daisy Buchanan is author of The Sisterhood – A Love Letter to the Women Who Shaped Me