Category: Relationship

When we last left off in the Wedding Diary: Part One – Adam had just left our suite to get ready for the evening separately. My sister arrived, champagne, silk pajamas, hair and make-up tools in tow. We put on a ‘getting ready’ playlist and spent the next hour or so getting ourselves ready for the night ahead. My parents stopped by from down the hall to say hi, my two best friends from college came by and did their own hair and make-up there too before heading off to the venue – it was a revolving door of some of the people I love most. It was a fun period of the day but also in the moment, I was feeling the most stressed. The weather was tenuous at best and we’d just asked 30 of our closest family and friends to come to New York City and wait for us on a rooftop.

The vendors had begun to deliver things, the tables were being set.. really there was no turning back. Suddenly it was 5:00 PM – everyone was heading to the cocktail hour and Leandra, our incredible photographer was coming back to the Ludlow to capture a first look. For the first time since 7:00 AM, I was alone in the room, in my dress. Adam was 3 doors down the hall. Later we recounted that we’d both stood at the window, looking out over downtown and watched it begin to rain. And then we took a few deep breaths and came to meet each other.

Me, in a very simple silk slip dress – found for half price this summer from Reformation and hemmed at my local tailor, vintage paste stone earrings from Alexis Bittar (where I work) and a more walkable block heel sandal with just a touch of sparkle from Loeffler Randall – all brands that I wear and love regularly so I felt completely at ease in them. My hair let down from the morning’s bun to fall in retro waves and parted to the side. Lips bright red in Ruby Woo – the lipstick I wore constantly when I first moved to New York. An ivory mohair cardigan from French brand Sezane to drape over my shoulders in the chilly evening air. The inspiration was Carolyn Bessette at her wedding to JFK Jr. – a simple, timeless elegance + a touch of old hollywood glamour. Adam, in a silk tie neck shirt, wrapped twice, and a double breasted jacquard vest, vintage trousers and black patent loafers.

We were together, come what may. We had a few quiet moments to ourselves and then we were off, into a cab headed from the Lower East Side to Nolita – just as the rain began to stop again.

As we were making our way to the venue, our 30 guests were huddled inside – the bartender passing drinks down the staircase for a banded together makeshift happy hour that everyone was looking back on and laughing about already by the time we arrived. If you look closely you’ll see the place settings still upside down from when they set the tables only to have it start raining. Chairs wiped down before we got there and tablecloths and settings that were miraculously dry enough for us to sit less than 2 hours later.

My Dad met Adam and I downstairs, and then we were in the tiny stairwell leading up to the roof. My best friend Claire, who had spent months helping me expertly craft our wedding playlist and was so generously willing to hit ‘play’ was waiting at the top of the stairs and it was so nice seeing her first. Her being the one to give us our cue to walk.

What I remember: the opening chords of the Beach Boys’ ‘Don’t Worry Baby’ (the song we’d picked for him to walk out to) coming over the speakers, Adam turning the corner and hearing the tiny crowd erupt in cheers. My Dad giving me a steadying look, picking up the hem of my dress to keep it from touching the somewhat wet steps, the feel of his new wool suit against my bare arm. Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Secret Garden’ starting to play, how we made the turn out to the roof just as the music started to swell. How even with just 30 people I felt like I couldn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes until we made the turn and my childhood best friend Joanna came into focus, Adam beside her.

In a happy accident the microphones had been ruined in the earlier rain and so we could exchange our vows to one another quietly. We took our first dance to Smokey Robinson & The Miracles’ ‘You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me’ – a song that reminded us of the early days when we’d first met, both of us swearing we weren’t going to be together but finding it impossible to resist.

And then, as the lights began to go up in the city around us, string lights sparkling, we were free to breath. We greeted our guests, were handed drinks (a French75 for me, a Manhattan for Adam – our signature cocktails for the night) and wandered around the rooftop – never much more than an arm’s length away from one another. We’d pause and listen to a particular snippet of a song we love – mouthing the words to one another.

Every single guest had traveled to be there that night. Most from Pennsylvania but a few from further and it meant to world to have our 30 closest friends and family in this city where we’ve built a life together. My sister and Adam both gave a short toast, we sipped good champagne and then we served dinner from Rosemary’s – one of our favorite local restaurants. I’ve honestly never had a memorable meal at a wedding and so we thought – why try to cater steak? We could just serve great pasta from one of our favorite local restaurants and then whenever we feel like it, we can have the same meal we ate at our wedding.

Keeping in the spirit of sourcing things locally – we had a small lemon curd and olive oil cake made by From Lucie – a French bakery in the East Village (same thing, we can eat our wedding cake on every anniversary if we’d like) and trays of cookies from Bedford Cheese Shop that did our appetizer plates as well – they’re right around the corner from us in Gramercy.

We served coffee in classic NY blue paper coffee cups. I danced with my Dad to Sam Cooke’s ‘Nothing Can Change This Love’. The rest of us swept the dance floor. We played Amy Winehouse’s ‘Valerie’ for my dear friend from college Val as she twirled around. My cousin’s wife Raquel, whom I adore, hooted and hollered – a true country girl in NYC. One of our oldest friends Dave came around with a tray of tequila shots – no idea how he procured it. It was spectacular.

We laughed and danced and then.. like clockwork, it started to rain just as the party was meant to wrap up. We ran for cover downstairs. I changed into a white party dress from Staud and silver platform heels and a handful of us were off to the after party. Final finals (and then some) at The Flower Shop in the Lower East Side. It was a rain soaked blur of a late night adventure until finally I looked over at Adam and said.. let’s go home.

It wasn’t perfect.. nothing is. But it was really and truly ours. And if I had to do it again – aside from maybe getting a really beautiful sunset as our backdrop – I wouldn’t change a thing.

All photos by Leandra Creative Co.

There is a line in the 1999 movie Runaway Bride that has stuck with me since I was 12 years old. Julia Roberts character says “I hate big weddings with everybody staring. I would like to get married on a weekday while everybody is at work. And if I ride off into the sunset, I want my own horse.” It took me another 24 years to get there (and alas, we shared a cab) but in the end, Adam and I were married in City Hall, at 10AM on a grey Thursday – while everyone else in Manhattan was at work.

I’ve been meaning to share the wedding details with you all, and then one thing lead to another (work’s busy season, a few curveballs from life) and now we’re nearly to our two month anniversary. But I hope you’ll still indulge me. It’s going to come in two parts as the day was distinctly split that way.

But first, I’ll pick up where I last left off – at the engagement. When we first decided to get married I was hesitant to share the news at all (I think I waited about a month to do so publicly). I know that most people scream about their diamond rings from the rooftops, but ours wasn’t like that and I think it just felt so precious, so delicate – that I wasn’t sure I wanted it out there in the world. I’m glad I reconsidered because one of the most surprising things about this entire endeavor was the outpouring of well wishes from you all – extended family, old friends, internet acquaintances. So many people who I honestly wouldn’t have guessed thought of us at all, went out of their way to say that they were earnestly happy for us. It really was bolstering, especially since the 3 months leading up to the wedding day proved to be more challenging than I had anticipated. While almost all of it was out of our control (the death of two grandparents, work stress, a stomach ulcer and small hernia, family stuff, the stress of planning and organizing the wedding and the honeymoon very quickly) – that surrounding joy helped me to feel more celebratory in that engagement period when I chose not to have the traditional bridal shower, bachelorette, etc. Needless to say, by the time September 28th rolled around Adam and I were running on fumes, and I presume had checked the weather more times than most meteorologists in the tri-state area.

That being said, the morning of the wedding we woke up to a sweeping view of downtown Manhattan from a beautiful suite in the Ludlow Hotel, and all of that started to fade away. We’d visited the rooftop where we were set to hold the dinner reception the night before with my parents and sister and made the tenuous decision to stick to original plans despite scattered rain in the forecast. And so, with nothing more than a blind trust in what was to come, we began the day. Adam had, in signature fashion, forgotten the shirt that he was going to wear that morning at our apartment so he had to run back home, which left me to get ready alone in our room. What I remember: listening to our wedding playlist, the smallest ray of sunlight parting through the clouds, pinning my curls into a loose bun with a handful of bobby pins, kneeling on the carpet to make a bouquet out of flowers I’d bought the day before at the Union Square farmer’s market, wrapping it with lace from the sleeve of my Mom’s wedding dress and securing the lace with a blue crystal earring from my late Nan (my sister had the other sleeve and half pair on her wedding bouquet 9 years ago), stepping into those ivory lace Manolos.

Adam wore a vintage navy pinstripe 3-piece suit we’d found in a charity shop a few weeks prior and he had tailored. I wore an ivory wool button front dress from New York brand Lein, a subtle flared skirt and puffed sleeves its only “flourish”, aforementioned Manolos, small pearl earrings borrowed from my sister and a vintage satin navy handbag I found on Etsy the week before. For the morning at City Hall I wanted a nod to the 1940s-1960s (my favorite eras) but with a modern twist. Ultimately, I wanted us to look really timeless in the photos, and I’m so happy with how it came together.

We’d built a pretty tight itinerary for the day and so we met our immediate families in the lobby at 9:00AM sharp and got in cars headed for City Hall. We were allowed 4 witnesses, meaning our parents could join us inside while our siblings waited outside. My Dad signed our marriage license with us and in doing so, Adam officially took our last name. From there, we watched the ticker boards until our number (C017) was called. The thing I loved about getting married at City Hall is what I love about New York – there are a million intersecting stories at any given moment. Down the hall was a young bride in chunky black Prada loafers, white knee socks and a white mini dress. Next to us was a bride well into her second or third trimester in a form fitting ivory sweater dress – her and the groom both beaming with love. Behind us – a bride in a full length lace gown, her groom in a sharp suit. We all had our own versions of that day – but we all shared in the excitement of that morning together.

The ceremony itself was brief and straight to the point. I hadn’t looked up exactly what the officiant would say but was happily surprised that we did in fact get to say “I do”, exchange rings – Adam’s a simple black band, mine a tiny row of diamond baguettes – and have an official kiss at the end. The whole thing took no more than 5 minutes and was perfect to me.

We exited City Hall into a snow globe of white confetti (I’d ordered small poppers ahead of time and our family and our amazing photographer Leandra all got into place before we came out the doors) – which was one of my favorite moments of the day. We were officially married and everything after that was icing on the cake of it all.

We took photos on the steps of City Hall and then left with Leandra for photos in Washington Square Park – a place that feels very ‘us’. It’s our local park, the one we’ve been walking to most weekends for a decade, the one where we sat on a bench and decided to get married on a hot night in July while lightning bugs flickered around us. Partially because it was overcast and partially because it was a Thursday at 11AM we miraculously had the place almost to ourselves.. which never happens. We danced by the fountain, paused under the arch, and were generally just sort of swept along with happiness during that photo hour.

From there we dipped into Washington Mews – one of my favorite tucked away streets that you’ll likely recognize as we’ve taken plenty of blog photos there over the year. Again, it was blessedly empty so we could really just relax into the moment.

Our last shot of the morning was a recreation of one of Adam’s grandparent’s wedding photos. A small tribute to his Nana that we lost a few weeks earlier.

Afterwards, Leandra left for a break before returning later and Adam and I were alone. One of the things that was most important to me that day was that we actually get to spend as much of it together as possible. And so, on a corner of Washington Square Park, I changed into little lace ballet flats and we walked to pick up lunch. We stood in line, me holding a bouquet, him holding a cardboard ‘just married’ sign – ordering salads to go. Then we grabbed a cab and took them back to our hotel suite where we promptly changed into robes, ate lunch, talked about the morning, listened to our wedding playlist for that night and just reveled in it together for about an hour. It was one of the best parts of the day.

Then it was time for the shift to the second half of the day.. where time would begin to move much faster. Adam left to move to my sister’s hotel room with my brother in law, and my sister came to our room to start getting ready for the evening. The rest coming in part two!

A few photos from my own camera and iphone, but the majority are from Leandra Creative Co. – she was a dream to work with and we can’t recommend her enough!

Years ago I heard someone say that there are two types of relationships, start-ups or mergers. I’ve thought about it often since. It’s a generalization, but also rings so true to me. And besides being interesting to identify, I have found that little things like this can truly help you come to a deeper understanding of your relationship and in turn, learn to play to the strengths of your situation.

 So what does it mean to be a starter or a merger? Well, when I heard the phrase it was in passing – but here’s what I would define it as.

In a start-up, you meet when you’re young. Maybe you’ve had a relationship or two before, but still, you’re young enough to be bright eyed and bushy tailed and endlessly optimistic about the prospects of this new venture. You’ve got energy and resources to burn. All good things in theory. But as you grow, you’re going to have to figure out how to grow together. A start-up venture doesn’t have history on it’s side so you’re figuring out every little thing as you go. Many won’t make it this way. You’ll grow in different directions and go bankrupt along the way. But if you can withstand the growing pains, keep the same end goals in mind and somehow turn a profit – you’ll be an inspiring success story. The kind that people want to model their own business (ahem, relationship) after.

In a merger, you come in to this thing with assets. You’re a little older and a little wiser. You’ve got liabilities. You’ve likely been burned by business partners before. In a merger you are two already formed entities. And you have to somehow figure out how to get these two things to join forces and be better because of it. In the worst case scenario you find out these things will never be compatible. Too many stubborn differences, the pieces just can’t fit. But in the best case scenarios, a merger brings together two already strong individuals and makes something even stronger.

I believe that a great relationship can come from either, but I love thinking about it this way.

By this point I suspect you have one of two worries surrounding Thanksgiving. What to wear and/or how to deal with family. For the former, it’s simple – this dress. I suggest no belt, so that it’s just a super soft, super swingy tunic that still feels dressy enough with a pair of heeled booties to look like you have your life together when your grandparents ask, but still comfy enough to eat seconds of pie and then inevitably nap later.

For the latter, its not going to be as simple. I am incredibly fortunate to be a member of a nuclear family that truly gets along and loves hanging out together. And for the first 20 something odd years of my life I thought this was actually normal. Turns out, its not. And once you add in extended family and in-laws (and god forbid politics) – I’m guessing there’s about 95% of you that feel at the very least a small amount of stress about seeing someone across the dinner table later this month.

Well meaning questions (like – how’s your job? when are you two finally going to get married? how long are you going to live in New York?) can range from mildly prying to downright triggering. Add in another family that’s only attached to you through a significant other and you’ve got a whole other set of tightropes to walk. All while just trying to get through dinner without spilling sweet potatoes on your new dress.

Here’s what I suggest. Set expectations for yourself before you ever step foot into the host’s house. You can control 0% of how other people behave or how they question your love life. You can control 100% of how you react to it. Give yourself a pep talk beforehand if need be. Find a sibling or partner that you’ll be there with and can be your life raft during Thanksgiving dinner. And have an escape plan. You may be obligated to attend but you’re not obligated to stay until midnight.

In general, I find that usually when people ask probing questions into your life its because they are genuinely interested or because something about your life triggers their own insecurities. When they ask a 32 year old woman when she’s thinking of starting a family, perhaps its because they’re jealous they didn’t get time when they were that age to focus on their career because they were already strapped with two kids. Or maybe it just popped into their head and so they thought why not ask. Who knows. It’s not your job to figure out their shit. It’s your job to remember what you’re grateful for and get through dessert.

Of course, if you’ve got a family that operates at a level that feels destructive, burdening or hurtful to be around – I suggest you gather up a good friend or two, book a ticket and head to the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. They host a ‘Black Sheep Thanksgiving’ party each year where you can hide out in the desert by the pool and escape it all. There are some things that just aren’t healthy – and I hope you all can draw that line, however hard it would be to do so.

But for the majority of us that will grin and bear it this year when their mother in law critiques our stuffing or our grandfather makes a joke in poor taste… know that after the long weekend you can return to the great life you’ve been busy building. At least until Christmas…

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