Alex + Grant

We spent the morning after our first date barefoot and broke in the Hamptons
I worked with Grant’s sister, so I started running into him at work events. I'd say the first time I took notice of him was at a friend's birthday party in Prospect Park. I downed enough wine to think doing handstands was a good idea. We ended up biking back to Greenpoint together and my ankle was swollen from landing on it weird, but I refused to leave my bike at his place when he offered. I peddled home with one leg and woke up the next morning with a smile bigger than my busted ankle. He just made me so happy.

Our first date was a night we were abandoned on the beach in Amagansett with no wallets, shoes, or cell phone service. We snuck away from our group to hang out on a lifeguard tower, swig wine, and look at the Milky Way—and everyone left for Montauk without telling us. We managed to uber back to town and find an empty boat in a yard to sleep in under the stars. We basically spent the next morning barefoot and broke in the Hamptons. (Evidence here.) I've never laughed so hard.  


I first said “I love you” in bed on a weekend morning. I almost caught myself to hold back longer but then I just blurted it out and he said "I love you too". Marriage hadn't come up that much but we talked about kids. Everything was thrown up in the air when the company I worked for suddenly imploded and I didn't know if I could stay in New York (I'm Canadian). Our convos got real, fast. We were both thinking things through on our own and then we just turned to each other one morning and said, "Let's do this!" We started calling friends and family to tell them the news. It was a complete high. I'm glad there was no proposal and it was this joint decision. It actually felt more spontaneous that way.  
We went to City Hall a few months before the family get-together and that kicked things off in the perfect way: I scored a $70 vintage Halston dress, we went for drinks at a dive bar in Chinatown afterward, followed by 40 of our friends crashing a bar later that night with an epic dance party (one guy had to get knee surgery from the moves he pulled!). The pressure was definitely off for wedding number two.

We got married in Nova Scotia, where I'm from.  On our way, we missed our flight from New York and spent the night in a Howard Johnson Hotel in Jamaica, Queens. We ordered delivery pizza and watched "Hollywood Medium with Tyler Henry." It turned out to be the only time we got to chill that entire week.
The morning of our wedding, I cut Grant's hair on the porch. We pitched a yurt on the lawn of my sister's summer house. The ceremony was on a beach nearby that I've visited since I was a kid. We ran out of time for anything too elaborate and patched together simple ideas we really liked—passages from poems by Nayyirah Waheed, William Carlos Williams, and Thi Thanh Nguyen—that we sent to a brave, brilliant friend (hi Claire!), who wrote up the ceremony a few days before the wedding. The whole thing was very hands-on: my parents and their partners made the appetizers, my good friend Jade altered a vintage dress, my sister made the bouquet, close family and friends helped with the set-up. My brother and some musician friends played instruments while leading guests down this leafy lane that ends at the beach.

Oysters and lobster crostini to start, paella for dinner. We filled a dory boat full of ice, beer, and champagne. My mum made the wine for sangria and designed special labels.  We danced until around 2am and then a big group of us walked back down to the beach for a skinny dip under the full moon.