RUN AWAY TO PARIS

My engagement ring should have been the first clue. After weeks of trying and failing to find ideas for my then-boyfriend Alex, who wanted to design the ring himself, I stumbled across the Dior ‘Oui’ ring and knew instantly it was the one.

It was the precursor for our entire wedding, though we didn’t know it yet. Once Alex had popped the question, we took about a month to enjoy being engaged and then dipped our toes (note: did not dive) into wedding planning. If Bridezillas emulate that raging reptile, I felt more like the helpless damsel in the grips of a monstrous force running away with me. For a short while, I thought the process of elimination would help to reveal, in Goldilocks fashion, just the right size and style for us. Instead, endless options formed a labyrinth; for every detail I decided on, a thousand more within that one opened up. And the two wedding planners I met with only seemed to make it worse, suggesting yet more ideas and assuring me I would really regret not having, and I quote, the celebration of a lifetime. Insert scream here.

We almost did it. We’d chosen the venue, the caterer, the florist. All that stood between our peaceful existence and one hurtling us toward The Big Day were a few deposits, in amounts that were each equal to a trip across the globe. It was that cynical thought that gave me pause. I called my fiancé, whom I was still constantly forgetting to call my fiancé, fully expecting him to talk me down. Instead, with the air of a man just granted reprieve from death row, he agreed immediately. It was decided. We were eloping to Paris.

I should mention there are wedding-planning companies in Paris who offer packages to anyone who doesn’t want to have to plan a single detail, but I’ll be brutally honest: I didn’t like their aesthetic. They were all a little too “Emily in Paris,” if you catch my drift. Nothing but love to you if that’s your thing. For me, I wanted to eschew an American-style wedding entirely (otherwise, what was the point?) and avoid clichés.

My first tip for planning your own elopement is to let yourself off the hook from all the vendor shopping that comes with having a big wedding, and to maintain an attitude of spontaneity. And in Paris, this really works in your favor. All of the florists create works of art. Every single patisserie is heaven. You can’t go wrong, so just pick one!

It took just a few weeks to book all the necessary services and coordinate travel. I bought my dress and shoes online in one afternoon. After that, the only preparation I chose to do was bone up on my rusty French. No, I did not do bridal bootcamp or starve myself in anticipation of The Day, and spoiler alert: no one died.

Before we knew it, we were packing our bags and boarding the plane. We had a few days to explore Paris and acclimate to the time zone, which only enhanced our excitement over our decision. The day of our wedding was completely relaxed. We strolled over to a bistro near the florist and had a long lunch with wine, à la française. Then we picked up my bouquet and flower crown (in lieu of a veil) and said our goodbyes; the next time we’d see each other would be at our ceremony in the Champ de Mars.

Naturally, I got our suite at The Ritz, where I took a long bubble bath and did my own makeup before heading downstairs to David Mallett for a blowout, or le brushing. As a beauty minimalist, it was the perfect way for me to get ready for my wedding. If you’d prefer a professional makeup artist, again I gently remind you that you’re in Paris, the fashion capital of the world.

I had chosen a vintage Rolls Royce for the day purely for the fun and glamour of it, but I had no idea until we were en route how open the car was with its massive windows and backseat. The love I received from the Parisians as I was driven through the city is something I will never forget. They cheered, clapped, and blew me kisses, and I genuinely don’t think that would happen in any other metropolis but the City of Love. By the time I met Alex, I was feeling euphoric.

In a quiet corner of the park, beneath the Eiffel Tower, we exchanged our vows, and the officiant performed the fifteen minute ceremony in English and French. Eloping may not be for everyone, but I have to say there was something really beautiful about it just being the two of us. (Well, and the officiant, photographer, and videographer, but they let us have our moment.)

I like to say we had our reception all over Paris. Taking pictures at several scenic spots during the golden hour, we were congratulated and surrounded with love. The photo above on the Pont Alexandre III appears as if it were photoshopped to show only us, but in fact, that was just how kind everyone was—they actually cleared the space so we could get the shot. Finally, we ended the night on the steps of the Trocadéro taking in the twinkling Eiffel Tower. By that point we were both famished, so our wedding dinner was the trés American and very unkosher burgers and fries. C’est la vie.

It was an unforgettable experience and one I’ll never regret. A few weeks later, our decision was affirmed, when at the intimate Jewish ceremony we had to appease our families, my in-laws did everything possible to try to ruin our day. It was thanks to having had our dream wedding in the most beautiful city in the world that we were able to just shrug it off. We’ll always have Paris.

x Kate

Our Wedding:

Dress: Needle & Thread from BHLDN

Shoes: Jimmy Choo

Flowers: Moulié

Chauffeur: Paris Automédon Services

Photographer & Videographer: Lifestories Wedding

Hotel: The Ritz