Noelle + David
David and I met online. His username was “mrbrightside” — a nod to his all-time favorite band The Killers (fast forward to our wedding reception: our first dance was to “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” an Elvis Presley cover by the Killers). My first impression was what I now realize so many people see in David — honest, slightly nerdy looking, and sweet.
I asked him out for froyo in Rittenhouse Park in Philly where we live. We sat on a bench and talked for hours. He did not kiss me goodnight, but on date two when he did... I was head over heels.
David is mature, extremely practical, resourceful, and charming as hell. On one of our first dates he literally described himself as not really having “ups” or “downs”—he just flies in the middle. I needed balance in my life.
I said ‘I love you’ late one night, falling asleep in bed and David caught up with me three months later. I had imposed myself on his apartment very early on. We’d been happily co-habitating for three years. Our families, our friends—they all saw it coming, and so did we. I made the case to David about why we were ready, what it meant for us to just do it. David’s response to my appeal was three words: ‘send me rings.’ I started bawling! I know that does not sound like a proposal, but for me, that was it.
I was a fuck weddings bride. I was excited to hold a bouquet, have confetti poured all over me, wear (and design) an insanely beautiful gown, and as tradition goes, dance with my father. But honestly, we just wanted to throw an awesome dance party.
The morning of, I went to a 6 a.m. hot yoga class. I shopped at Whole Foods for flowers, grabbed my favorite green juice, and bought snacks for anyone who might pass through our home in the coming days. David and I decided to get ready in our apartment.
The wedding was a two day event. The City Hall ceremony on Thursday with an intimate family dinner, and the reception on Saturday—a dance party for 100 of our closest friends and family. The ceremony had no theatrics, no music, no walking down the aisle. My sister was my glorified maid-of-honor; she wore a beautiful vintage DVF pink dress from a thrift store.
We chose Audrey Claire for the dinner, which was an indulgent, spirited evening of two families coming together over great conversation and our favorite champagne and wines. We chose Twenty Manning for the reception. We loved the bright yellow art deco sofas and impeccable cocktail service. As far as dessert, we cancelled all tastings and scheduled a surprise Insomnia Cookie delivery.
Our DJ, no joke, was named DJ Low Budget—but he was fabulous. We danced until he had to leave, and then we hit the town. Our guestbook was a blank book paired with pens and a polaroid camera. Guests took some hilarious photos together and left notes with them for David and I.
We went to St. John for the honeymoon full of breakfasts, beach, happy hours, late dinners, then more drinks. Rum. Rum. Rum. Four nights of perfect weather.