The royal wedding: magic we can't forget It wasn't a contrived thing. I remember seeing Norman Wisdom's films when I was very much younger and I had his kind of slapstick comedy in the back of my mind. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't really dancing - just playing the fool. There was a tremendous reaction from the public, and I started waving my arms around even more to get them to increase the applause. I found myself in the middle of the road at the centre of attention but, to my horror, I looked up and saw loads of TV cameras on me. I had no idea it had been broadcast so widely until I finished my shift. My mobile went into meltdown - I got dozens and dozens of text messages from friends and colleagues. For weeks afterwards, my picture was posted on the walls around the police station, and people would come up to me and do comedy trips. Even now, people still do it. I've been a policeman for 35 years and am due to retire after the Olympics, when I'll be on duty in the Olympic Park. When I think of the Royal Wedding now, I remember it being a happy, joyous event, and it was a privilege to be in London that day. The public's reaction to the police was really positive, and when I think of the other things that happened last year, and what London went through, the wedding was one of those times that make you proud to be an officer. It was the most exciting event I have ever worked on. The energy surrounding it was infectious and electric - everyone was so excited to be going. I designed 36 hats in all, for everyone from royalty - Princess Mathilde of Belgium, Marie-Chantal, Crown Princess of Greece, the Duchess of Cornwall - to Tara Palmer-Tomkinson and the Beckhams; we even made David's silk top hat. You don't usually get so many hats in one place, so making sure each design was different required military precision. The studio worked for two months. We were only getting five hours" sleep a night. The night before the wedding, we didn't sleep at all; Princess Beatrice's hat (pictured) was only ready at 8am. I only realised three days later, when I was in New York, the furore Princess Beatrice's hat had caused. My intention was simply to make a hat with a bow on it; everyone else seemed to interpret it differently. I still think it's one of the best I've ever made - and one of the most iconic hats of the last 50 years. I found out the February before the wedding that we had been chosen to make the couple's cake - Kate and William were fans of our fruit cakes. The Duchess wanted the cake to work well in the Picture Gallery, which has very high ceilings, but for it not to be too tall and spindly. She also wanted everything on the day to tell a story - for the cake to work with the dress, and so forth. She gave a well worked-out brief. We were told that lily of the valley would be important, so we included it as the motif. We were also asked to pipe a particular lace pattern on to the cake; I later discovered she used the same design on her dress. Eight of us worked on the cake, and it took about six weeks. We started by working out the recipes, sending samples to Clarence House - the end result was a very traditional fruit cake, but we experimented with different piping techniques and the use of floral decorations. For the eight tiers, we made 17 cakes in all and around 900 hand-crafted sugar flowers. Having made the individual cakes in our bakery in Leicestershire, we then transported them to Buckingham Palace where we spent a couple of days constructing the overall cake. My husband and I were invited to the wedding in the Abbey, which was an amazing experience. When I first saw what Kate was wearing, I thought: "Ah, now the cake makes sense." I didn't see the cake on the day, and was nervous in case they didn't like it. Luckily, they did, and they sent me a note afterwards saying how much they enjoyed it - and a slice, too. It really was a great day. I remember walking to the studio through Green Park at 5am, and meeting groups of people making their way down to the Mall. The mood was so enthusiastic and it gave me such a good vibe as we prepared for a marathon broadcast. The studio had a great view of Buckingham Palace and the crowds outside, and we could feel the surge of excitement as the processions started. One of the best moments for me was the first glimpse of the Abbey interior, with its avenue of trees. It was stunning. And I suppose the biggest television highlight was the balcony kiss: it was certainly what the crowd had waited for. Our peak coverage was watched by about 20 million people, one of the biggest British television audiences of all time. It was a fantastic broadcasting experience, and one I shall never forget. In just a few weeks, my beautiful little daughter, Iona, will be a year old. It seems incredible now that my wife was heavily pregnant with her at arguably the biggest wedding of the century. I have to pinch myself to remind me that we were actually there. It really was an astonishing day. The hairdresser arrived at 6am to prepare a bevvy of blonde hair - my wife and sisters-in-law's - while our young son, Ludo, watched on in amusement. For those invited to the wedding, what was incredible about the day was that there seemed to be a force field around us that made us feel like the only people there. I shall never forget the journey from Notting Hill Gate to Westminster Abbey through deserted streets. There was not a car, man, child or dog to be seen. Where was everybody? Of course, the crowds were all gathered outside the Abbey. Once inside, it felt like a simple, honest marriage of two friends. Even after 12 years as a television presenter, I was unaware of the cameras, and not once did I see a photographer; you can probably tell that from the pictures of my wife looking amazing and me looking - how shall I put it? - a little less aware. The congregation's only reminder that we weren't alone was the mighty muffled roar when the bride kissed the groom. Even the reception at Buckingham Palace felt intimate: fresh wild flowers, English wine, classical harpists, champagne and gloriously simple canapés. The Middletons mixed effortlessly with the Windsors. One highlight was the Royal family assembling behind Buckingham Palace as William swept his new bride away in his father's vintage car while we showered them in confetti. Shortly after the wedding, we each received a beautiful little tin box with a slice of the Royal Wedding cake from Prince Charles - an unexpected gesture and a happy reminder of that glorious day. I'm saving it for my daughter. When she is a little older, I can't wait to present it to her and show her a photograph of her pregnant mother looking radiant, and to tell her: "You were there, too." Right from the start, the Duchess was keen for everything to be seasonal and British. The bouquet included lily of the valley, for instance, which was in season and one of her favourite flowers. She is terribly interested in the language of flowers, and lily of the valley means "you make my life complete." The other bouquet flowers were equally symbolic: hyacinth (the constancy of love), myrtle and ivy (symbols of love and marital happiness), and sweet William. Everything was cut from the gardens at Sandringham and Windsor. Prince William had asked the Queen for her permission, and she thought it was a wonderful idea. It was really more like a nice family wedding than a huge public event. The Duchess wanted to make the Abbey feel more intimate, so we came up with the suggestion of using trees. We ended up with six English Field Maple and two Hornbeam. People would either love them or hate them. On the day of the wedding, we had a final check of the Abbey flowers at 6am and then bought the bride's and bridesmaids" flowers to the Goring hotel. I had actually seen the dress the evening before; the Duchess had described the main elements of it to me but I really needed to see it. I remember leaving the Goring and walking through the crowds thinking, "If only you knew what I've just seen." It was a great honour to be asked to write a piece, as new music isn't generally commissioned for royal weddings. Catherine had sung something of mine in her school choir, and I know that Prince Charles has said appreciative things of my work, so it was seen as a chance to knit together the new and the traditional. When the call came last January from James O'Donnell, Master of the Choristers at Westminster Abbey, he broke the news to me tentatively, asking: "Are you going to be around for the next couple of months?" Come the day, my work was done. The performers were far more keyed up than me - I could really sit back and enjoy the occasion. I had a lovely seat in the Abbey, just to the west of the organ screen and not far from Sir John Major. I couldn't see every detail, but I heard every note. There were no glitches at all. There was a party afterwards in the Cloisters, for all the people involved in the day's music and the Abbey clergy - it was during this that the verger did his famous cartwheel. Everyone was so happy it had gone so well. I remember talking to Robert Quinney, who played the organ. Had he been nervous? He shrugged, "No, not really." If his foot had slipped off the pedal, two billion people would hear it - but then if you think like that, you'd never climb the stairs to the organ loft. It was one of the warmest and happiest occasions in the Abbey that I can remember, and I think that a lot of the warm reaction related to the interaction between the couple themselves. They had responded in a very wonderful way to the interest in them and seemed focused on the spirit of the service. The verger was embarrassed to be filmed cartwheeling down the aisle. It was a spontaneous gesture, and he certainly had no idea the cameras were running - and that it would go around the world. But for me, and for many other people who have spoken to me, it was very touching. It expressed physically what we were all experiencing emotionally. It was just a summing up of the thrill of the day. The decision to sleep on the sidewalk was impromptu. I had no tent, no sleeping bag, but I'm an adventurer and like to do once-in-a-lifetime things - and this felt like a chance to do something I'd never be able to do again. My husband and I had flown to London for the wedding. Sleeping on the street outside the Abbey and eating road dust every time a big red bus went past was not part of the original plan. We'd been on a tour of the Abbey a couple of days before, and at that time there were only two people camped on the street. That's when the idea formulated. The next day, I took a camp stool and a sign - "I'm the crazy Canadian"- and sat down. That first night in London, I didn't know it could be that cold - I expected snowflakes to fall - and I swear I nearly froze to death. Between the bongs of Big Ben and the world's media who were beginning to set up enormous spotlights nearby, I was pretty much kept awake. But then came the angel who saved me. After I appeared on the news, an adventure company representative turned up with a sleeping bag and air mattress for me. After that, I slept like a queen. The manager of the hotel I was checked into turned up with hot coffee and bedclothes, while passers-by brought tea, food and umbrellas. It was like being someone's houseguest. I slept in the same clothes for three days. Those people who would leave to go back to their homes or hotels to have a shower and come back, we called them "cheaters." I've stayed friends with people I met in the queue. We now call each other "flatmates." Some of the turf wars were hilarious. One British tourist wanted to push in front of us, saying: "We have more right to this than you." I'd been there for three days, and wasn't moving. Although we had been Kate's hairdressers for many years, you can never assume you will automatically be invited to style a bride's hair. So it was really exciting when we were asked not only to style Kate, but the bridal party, including Pippa and Carole [Middleton], too. Kate's hairstyle was very much her preference. We worked with her to create a look that she wanted. It was really a matter of achieving a fine balance of her feeling natural but also reflecting the occasion. Once we had met and chatted with Kate, my stylist James and I created three moodboards. Three styles were selected, and we worked with those until the final look was achieved. My wife, Hellen, suggested the name "demi-chignon" when we realised we needed something a bit more regal than a "half up-half down." On the day, there were nine of us working on her hair. The thought of having two billion people around the globe watching and commenting on our work was very stressful. But as soon as I saw Kate get into the car outside the hotel, I realised we had nailed it. I read somewhere that William only had half an hour's sleep before the wedding. It was a bit like that for me, too. I watched it on my own, at home with a cup of tea. I'd set the video, then did my best to lip-read what Kate and William said to each other during the ceremony. I loved it when he leaned in and whispered, "You look beautiful." Once they'd left the Abbey, there was just enough time for me to race down from north-west London to the Mall to catch their kiss. I went on my own, because my friends would only have held me back. It's hard to believe now, with all this rain we're having, that the wedding was this time last year and it was a beautiful, hot day. With everyone milling around the front of Buckingham Palace, I heard one of the mounted policeman say: "Can't you all go home and drink Pimm's in your own gardens?" I can't resist royal memorabilia, and bought armfuls of books from a little tented stall just off the Mall. The next day, I visited the Abbey, to get a look at those wonderful trees, and the scent of the flowers was so beautiful. I even sat down where the Queen had been, and a man curtseyed to me! One year on, I'm still busy framing the postcards I bought in the Abbey shop, and am looking forward to receiving the commemorative Barbie dolls of Wills and Kate in their wedding outfits. Harrods have put a pair aside for me.