My French Wedding!

I've planned and designed hundreds of weddings. Here's what I chose for my own big day with the marvelous Monsieur B.

Salut les ami.e.s,

If you’ve been here before, you may already know that I moved to France for love.

If you’re new, bienvenue. Last week I promised to share a few details about my French wedding, because it’s the second anniversary of my getting hitched and changing my whole life. I’m now a legit resident of France, not to mention Madame ! (Read all the way to the end for a photo of Monsieur B et moi on our wedding day in France)

As a bit of background, it’s important to say that I already loved everything about the French language and lifestyle way before I met my husband in Paris, masks on, en pleine pandémie (in the middle of the pandemic). I had spent years studying French just for fun and even earned my DALF level C1 diploma in 2017. But I really never thought I’d be married, and I sure didn’t think I’d be leaving New York for a few more years (if ever).

In New York, after (and as a result of) my restaurant career, I went on to become first a party designer, then an event planner, then someone who wrote books about weddings, and eventually someone who (now) consults with the hospitality industry creating destination wedding programs and advising on events internationally.

In my role creating international destination weddings, I often art direct lifestyle photo shoots on location at beautiful hotels. That’s me on the right—I am still kicking myself for not bringing those pants to Paris! Photo: Belathée

Since I mentioned having designed and produced incredibly detailed, personal and (sometimes) elaborate celebrations for many different couples, and having passionately worked in the industry for years, you might wonder, “What did she dream about for her own wedding?”

The crazy thing is, I never dreamed of a wedding. In truth I never fantasized about what my husband would be like, where I would get married, a dress…not even when I was a little girl. I just didn’t think about it. At all.

Fun fact: when my mother learned I was trying my hand at wedding planning, she laughed out loud. “You?” she said. “Not likely!”

But while I may not have been obsessed with the idea of marriage for myself, I have simply always loved Love. Hopeless romantic here! Also I get a big kick out of helping people celebrate any old thing. It is so incredibly rewarding to spend sometimes a year or more with a family, getting to know them, taking care of them, guiding them in their vision and creating a unique and joyful experience.

When it all comes together, it’s a beautiful thing. In Costa Mujeres, Mexico. Photo: Belathée

So my own romance with Monsieur B was franchement (frankly) a total surprise. I fell in love with him within ten minutes of meeting him in the rain outside the Odéon métro stop on our first date. That same week we had four dates (four nights in a row) and I cried on our fourth date because he was leaving for les vacances d’été (summer vacation) on a bike tour with his teenage kids, and I thought I might never see him again once I went back home to NYC.

Heureusement (happily), I was wrong. Several trips between continents, one trip to Burgundy and lots of deep conversations later, we got engaged, first on a Google Meet video chat where I remember saying, “Wait? Are we getting married?” and he said, “Oui, on va faire ça !” (Yes, we’ll do that!).

Then the second time, when I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport, to the delight of me and some people waiting for their luggage in the terminal, he got down on one knee, smiled, held out a ring box and asked me, “Veux-tu m’épouser ?” (Will you marry me?)

We decided to get married right away, as soon as we could organize everything, and I was bowled over to discover that I was marrying a man who was even more fastidious than me. He loves to plan things! He saves copies of important papers and files them correctly! He doesn’t mind researching florists and venues or gathering all the forms one needs to submit to la mairie (the town hall).

And you know what? I did my part and I enjoyed planning our wedding, but I honestly didn’t give the really tiny details a lot of thought.

I’d already lived vicariously for years through everyone else’s wedding fantasies. Princess brides, barefoot brides, beach brides, edgy brides, couture brides, artsy brides, bad bitch brides, laid-back brides. But me? All I truly wanted was the reality of marrying this wonderful man I had been so lucky to find. Oh and du bon vin et de la bonne cuisine, bien sûr ! (Oh and also, good wine and good food, of course!)

Mes beaux-enfants (my stepkids) brought me a bouquet of balloons on the big day. All my wedding photos: Lucie Atlan Hair/Makeup: Mademoiselle Isa’belles

The oddest thing to me was that, as a long-time florist and decorator, I myself had few requests or demands. I found an absolutely stunning fleuriste (florist) in our neighboring town of Fontainebleau and I told them very little. I just asked for white flowers and a long garland and lots of candles. Monsieur B, if you’re reading this, je sais que tu ne voulais pas de bougies. Mais c’était vraiment joli, non ? (I know you didn’t want candles. But it was really pretty, wasn’t it?)

Early spring branches and simple candle lanterns...

The fabulous fleuristes at Le XVIII Fontainebleau decorated our private dining room at Restaurant La Palette in Moret-sur-Loing. My step-daughter hand-lettered our place cards.

We had fewer than 20 people at the wedding, and that suited us just fine. I didn’t have many guests from the US, and I’m sad to say I didn’t have a lot of support from my family at the time, but one of my very best friends spent a week in France and she made things really special.

In my career I have organized boats, limos, antique cars, jet skis, buses, golf carts and all kinds of other transport for my clients. When it came to our wedding, we decided to do everything in our little medieval village where we could walk to the various events.

La Maison des Arts, where we toasted with friends and family after the ceremony

We were married in the Hotel de Ville (the town hall) and walked along the Loing river banks

When our Jour J (our Big Day) arrived, we held our ceremony in the mairie, in a small, cozy room that was once the kitchen of the house. Our officiant was Madame la maire (the mayor) herself! Never mind that my birthdate was wrong in the livret de famille (this is a very important book you need for record-keeping), which stopped the ceremony cold for about 30 seconds and garnered some gasps from les invités (the guests). Never mind that the night after my wedding night I had to stay alone to go back to get that sorted. Au moins (at least) the mayor assured us that we were in fact fully married despite the error.

Next we held a vin d’honneur (a toast) at a charming café just across the street. The owners had just put in a tea room à l’étage (on the first floor), so we drank Champagne and ate delicious little canapés and freshly sliced ham.

Local, fresh, simple and so pretty! It was all perfect and all I had to do was enjoy every moment.

We walked to dinner at Restaurant La Palette where the marvelous couple who own the place pulled out all the stops for us. They gave us a private room and had arranged some lounge seating and one long table. The menu was full of local ingredients, served so elegantly, but with a friendly, familial touch. Course after course of delights arrived, with the perfect wines to match, and a miniature, somewhat flat-topped and incredibly sweet croquembouche as a wedding cake.

An absolutely unforgettable meal, served with elegance and shared by those we love.

I was (delightfully) shocked when we paid the bills for flowers and food. A wedding feast of this quality, with these wines, would’ve cost at least four times as much as a similar event in New York.

There were surprises, too. Beautiful speeches and the gift of a trip dans une mongolfière (in a hot air balloon).

And just when we thought we couldn’t eat or drink or laugh more, we all strolled together to another favorite local spot, a small resto called Entre Deux Portes (it’s named for its location between the old city gates). With Chef Humberto’s permission, we plugged in the iPhone and cranked up the playlists my stepson had helped me put together. Soon we were dancing, as were some of the remaining folks who had been dining in the restaurant before we arrived! We sipped rhum arrangé, the house specialty, and then we walked (well, I floated) home under the stars.

On a de la chance. (We are so lucky.) As we walked around the village, locals stopped to wish us “Que du bonheur !” (Nothing but happiness!)

Ma belle-sœur (my sister-in-law) hosted a wonderful farewell brunch for us the next day and the whole celebration was perfect. Except for the part where I spent two hours in the mayor’s office on Monday (arguing in French) to get my docs corrected, even though it was their error. Ah, l’administration française !

Thank you so much for sharing a moment here. It means a lot to me. This week’s post is extra special because it remembers such a precious experience. Let me know what you think about my little French wedding. Je vous souhaite un bon week-end. (Wishing you a good weekend.)

Bisous,

Karen