Upon arrival, the winding road in was flooded with greenery, horses milling about and mounds of bougainvillea heaping over fences lining the driveway, essentially all the things I love most about the outdoors.
Several Italian cypress trees towered over a Mediterranean style house built in the 1920s where the ladies in the family and myself started preparing for the big day.
We chose this venue without seeing any others, about three hours after arriving back home, in absolute awe of how strikingly familiar a setting it felt to our favorite time and place of all, Europe in the summer.
I very early on decided to lay to rest the idea of having a bridal party, as I eagerly wanted my nearest and dearest girlfriends to simply be guests and I wanted the comfort of knowing my self-assumed hostessing responsibilities would calm if I began the day with just family.
Of course that didn’t stop me from having the most decadent chocolate truffles, matching floral blue and white robes and pink champagne at our disposal.
Before long, it was time to get dressed in the custom wedding gown the loveliest lady made just for me.
A Chantilly lace corset, a full billowing skirt, a tulle tutu for later and in accordance with bow-mantic guidelines set by yours truly, a big, beautiful bow. My white satin pumps poignantly followed suit.
My mother and sister also wore white, as one does when attempting their best version of Pippa Middleton, or the Kardashian sisters.
After getting fully dressed we made our way out for a first look, with Pierre of course.
And eventually my soon to be husband too.
It’s unclear whether Piggy approved of my wedding look or not, but thankfully Arthur did.
We took some time under the most beloved archway I’ve ever seen, laced with the perfect amount of pink roses, which I had only meant to serve as a photo booth for guests, but became my favorite detail of the entire day.
Full disclosure, I hadn’t even described it this way to our florist, but that is perhaps the miracle in relinquishing some control, that and of course the true talent of Isabelle Cañas.
Following our first look my best friend Emma arrived a bit before the ceremony to spend some time and sign our Ketubah as my witness.
Created by our Rabbi, the Ketubah is a scared document in the Jewish faith, one that outlines the ideals we’d like to uphold in our marriage, the intertwining tree branches representing an equitable foundation and joining of our repsective ancestral heritage.
The tequila shots a little taste of the celebration to come.
Arthur requested I walk down the aisle to the lovely pre-chorus of Lauryn Hill’s rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You.
I chose to walk myself down the aisle, as the symbolism of being ‘given away’ didn’t sit well with me.
I am, nor will I ever be, one who’s given away.
We had a reformed Jewish ceremony, in keeping with most of the traditions.
One of which being the chuppah, a canopy symbolizing the home. Our Rabbi also wrapped us in Arthur’s bar mitzvah tallit, a shawl we wear demonstrating the love all around us on this day.
It’s customary for Jewish brides to circle their groom seven times to symbolize the husbands role as the center of her world, however, we chose to both circle one another, illustrating equality and respect in our partnership.
Walking down a bed of white rose petals towards Arthur and this serene setting really did feel like a fairytale, except I knew my story wouldn’t end at “I do“.
Pierre wore the rings on his bow tie, and fortunately they showed up when requested by the Rabbi rather than in his little tummy where I believe one could start a solid recycling program.
Throughout the ceremony, I felt truly grateful.
Grateful that our union originated from love and respect, not just tradition or necessity; grateful for the amazing people in our lives who bore witness this magical moment; grateful for champs and to finally go from “dad’s girlfriend” to “step-mom” to our lovely little piggy.
Grateful to have found my true love— to be here, with him.
Fortunately, we didn’t repeat any Charlotte York wedding horrors and Arthur successfully broke the glass on the first attempt.
We saved the bold chorus of Lauryn Hill’s rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You for our first walk as husband and wife.
Despite all the admiration we received following our vows about sharing our future cheese pasta and loving each forever, all paled in comparison to the divine pig presence of Pierre.
While our guests nibbled on smoked salmon puffs and miniature lobster rolls, sipped signature cocktails like the “Frenchie 75” and “Monica Marg,” our band sang jazzy tunes poolside.
Arthur and I took a little time together to capture the day, appearing right at the end to welcome our guests in with a champagne tower toast.
As our nearest and dearest made their way into the courtyard for dinner, we formed an old fashioned receiving line to welcome our guests in and snap pictures in good light of course.
Our ceremony was everything and more; sentimental, thoughtful and got quite a few laughs. I didn’t start tearing up until the Rabbi told us to turn around and see all the people who came to bear witness to this moment in time, and it was one of the most beautiful moments to feel that love and support from everyone we cared so much about.
I specifically remember the sound of grasshoppers, the smell of fresh cut grass you only get far from the city and Arthur looking so dapper in his summer white suit.
It was always my favorite time of day in summer, the excitement of what a warm night might bring, the perfect opportunity to settle in or start again.
We cherished these few moments together before joining our guests for dinner at dusk.
As the sun set behind the mountains, I changed into a fun little tutu for a night of dancing.
One with its own, equally glamorous bow, of course.
Later in the night I traded my satin pumps for ballet slippers.
bow•mance
/bōˈmans,ˈbōˌmans/
noun
1. a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love of a decorative bow.
For dinner, we wanted everyone to feel like they were guests while on holiday, however, I spent a year waiting for a great idea for the escort table to come.
I do believe, however, my ginger jar potted greenery was most certainly worth the wait.
Upon entry was our shot & champs bar cart, to honor my husband’s Russian heritage and my own love affair with pink champagne.
I ordered this champagne tub in honor of my new family name, now synonymous with that of an olympic ice skater.
I kept the tablescape fresh and airy, letting the Mediterranean inspired blues and delectable dishes speak for themselves.
In addition to the main entrees, we added a few additional goodies for our own guests’ comfort, braised short ribs per Arthur, cheese tortellini per moi.
The few tastes I managed to snag at dinner were almost as delicious as they were illustrated on the menu. The color coded watercolor meal stickers included.
Dinner was magical; the candlelight flickered at dusk, on the cobblestone courtyard, with pink and blue hues inspiring all the summer feels we love so very much.
Not your typical photobooth, but absolutely lovely nonetheless.
I knew I wouldn’t have time to eat cake, so I decided looking at something marvelous would be the real treat.
Of course the macaron tower was much more accessible to me while bopping around the dance floor, and just as sweet as it’s pretty pink ribbon.
The strawberry tower was accompanied by dairy-less whip cream, however, appeared a hit amongst more than the three vegans in attendance!
Following our rounds of small chats with guests, we eventually took our seats and listened to heartfelt recounts of sisterhood and friendship by my sister and Arthur’s two best men.
At Last! by Etta James started to play and alas! Arthur led us into our first dance, with which we were wildly unprepared for.
Unless you consider a ten minute self-guided choreography session in the Whole Foods parking lot using an iPhone speaker preparation.
But despite the precipitous dips, less than smooth transitions and heel inch to Monica marg consumption ratio, I believe we managed to saunter through unscathed.
Just as I suppose we will learn to do more gracefully in these big years to come, both on and off the dance floor.
As the night drew on we continued celebrating on the dance floor with hits from the 90’s, a wild ride in the chair dancing the horah and cake frosting that ultimately landed on my face by way of my brand new husband.
Eventually the night commenced with a bright sparkler dance line, one too many bits of late night truffle grilled cheese sandwiches and a whole lot of memories I will have forever.
The most important one of all being my time with him, taking it all in, looking out with true peace and gratitude for what is, for what was, for what will ultimately be.
Vendors
Photography // Kellie Viagem @kellieviagem
Venue // Hummingbird Nest Ranch @hummingbirdnestevents
Linens // La Tavola @latavolalinen
Plates // La Pinata Party Rentals @lapinataparty
All other Rentals // A Rental Connection @arentalconnection
Catering // Command Performance Catering @commandperformancecatering
Florist // Florals by Isabelle @floralsbyisabelle
DJ // John Gomez {direct contact}
Band // Northeast LA Jazz Group: {direct contact}
Shuttle // Royal American Tours @royalamericantoursandcharter
Makeup // Blushington @blushington
Hair // Jordan from Stylebee @stylebee
Dressmaker // Brides by Liza @bridesbyliza
Desserts // Vienna Pastry @viennapastry
Planner // Michelle Spina, Events Like Clockwork {direct contact} @eventslikeclockwork
Rabbi/Ketubah // Barry Tuchman @barry_tuchman
Crest and Paper Design // Martina from Lana Dreams
