The day dripped in french glamour.
Pale pinks and ivory whites and champagne gowns and dapper bow ties– elegance that begets charm and charm that drove the night a distance from ordinary. In practicalities, it was a summer dusk in Newport Beach, but in feeling it was a ball fit for royals alone. An enchanting rendezvous that, in any other decade, the next morning’s papers would recap in tiny typed black and white, noting the bride’s batting eyes, flirty winks, and the groom’s knack for a good serenade. It would read something like, “And in the midst of a blushing banquet ambiance, the groom one-hand-carried out a vintage microphone, and an air of expectation stole the room… Would he? He would. To the surprise of guests and bride alike, he postured up, two hands on the mic, lock legged, and bravely sang his soul out, bending a single knee at the notes that made us melt, a tribute to his strongest and weakest affections within. The song? Can’t Help Falling In Love by the King, Elvis Presley. Fitting, the readers would concede.
The papers would dote on exquisitely prepared filet mignon that required nothing more than a butter knife and healthy appetite, and they would mention the live pianist who called the room to utter romance. And they wouldn’t dare forget to mention how the dimly lit reception was merely an afterglow, an encore if you will, of what had taken place earlier in the day.
Earlier in the day, the papers would spill, was when the sacred exchange of vows took place. In the most fairytale of chapels, all wood (of course), high beam ceilings, cathedrral windows, oh… and steeple with weddings bell and all… this is where with main event unfolded. This is why the guests gathered.
It has been said that the final words before the bride took the aisle were “You ready baby doll?” She nodded back at her daddy, who supported her forearm with his, and with this, two large wooden doors swung wide open. It took her breath away. Something you couldn’t imagine, even if you closed your eyes the tightest they close and used parts of the imagination reserved only for faith filled children. No, nothing but the reality of that feeling as the doors opened, illuminating the scene before her, could steal her pulse like it did. A hydrangea and rose lined aisle welcomed father and daughter. And together, they journeyed, to the moment she tells was the most sentimental of the day. Walking closer… and closer… to him, her groom, her ABSOLUTE, eyes locked in on each other, knowing the first magic they felt five years ago was merely a building climactic stretch to this. This moment that they wanted so, so wholly.
Readers would dramatically flip to the next page, wondering how the writers would conclude the recap. And with hyperbole, the storyteller would rewrite history based of the grandness of this event. They would talk of how the wedding date was July 5th, declaring a new holiday for love at large, and then it would flirtatiously be suggested that July 4th’s fireworks are forevermore merely a trumpet signaling the coming of the 5th. A midnight applause of sky and lights alike, cheering for the opulent display of love to come.
RAVES & THANKS:
Photographer: Whitney Darling Photography
Second Shooter: Dawn Alexandra Photography
Ceremony Chapel: Mariners Church
Officiant: Andrew Schey
Reception: Island Hotel
Videographer: Rain Studios
DJ: Vive Entertainment
Pianist: Denny White
Florist: Commerce Flowers
Day of Coordinator: Marci Hoven