Forget white weddings (no one’s foolin’ anyone, anyway).

Green weddings are in vogue. The British company Climate Care estimates a single wedding emits 14.5 tons of carbon dioxide, meaning the Holmes-Cruise extravaganza likely emitted enough gas to melt Donald Trump’s combover.

But those Hollywood types who drive electric Matchbox cars and eat tofu caviar, which as we all know can be recycled into tractor tires or leisure suits, have not apparently realized the dangers of wedding excess (and by excess I mean events at which the bride and groom are not wearing Coors T-shirts and guests are not treated to Spam sandwiches).

According to a wedding planner for Plan It Green in Baltimore, even being beautiful on your wedding day can be hazardous. She recommends not using any aerosol hairspray.

This advice will not be popular here in the South. There are two days in the life of a Southern woman when her hair requires a shellacking with Aqua Net that can withstand hurricane-force winds and a feuding family — her wedding and her funeral.

But, no, the planner continues, members of the wedding party should use organic hair care products. Maybe Dippity-do makes a line of tofu gels.

Prospective brides and grooms also should, the planner says, send recyclable invitations, hire musicians with acoustic instruments and serve organic spirits (i.e. wine that tastes like flat Co-Cola and gets you about as drunk.)

Here’s my solution to the invitation problem: Print two — one for the scrapbook and one to send to your grandma who doesn’t have a computer — and send e-mail to remaining guests. I know this likely will come as a shock to those who just ordered $600 invitations and spent another $200 to have them addressed in calligraphy, but people throw them away as soon as they’ve read them, unless the recipient’s a guy and he throws his away before he’s finished reading.

I wonder why I haven’t heard about this green wedding phenomenon on that TV show Bridezilla. I don’t recall seeing an episode featuring a lovely young bride, wearing cowboy boots beneath a dress chosen to showcase the tattoo of Route 66 on her back, arguing with her mother, “It’s My Special Day and I’ll save some x#@!* trees if I want to.”

I, for one, am all for simple weddings. I’ve heard enough of this “It’s my special day” hooie. No one can even say, “You only get married once” with a straight face.

Especially those Bridezillas. Let’s face it, if you pulled a gun on your maid of honor for ordering pink rather than peach roses, it doesn’t bode well for the first time hubby throws his dirty underwear on the floor.

Think about it: Do guests really need keepsake beer mugs personalized with your initials?

And don’t kid yourself. No one’s ever going to wear that $40 “I’m the bridesmaid” T-shirt outside of your rehearsal.

The average wedding, according to Conde Nast Bridal Group, costs $27,852, more than some people make in a year.

Those Hollywood types spend more like $27 million, which does seem a tad hypocritical. Think of how many sessions of couples’ counseling all those millions would buy — and all the trees that would be saved if they didn’t have to print that 200-page divorce decree 72 hours after the wedding.