connect!

un mariage juste parfait!



As many of you know, the reason for heading to New York for a week was officiate our wedding in the States! Getting married a second time around gave us the opportunity to change things we wish we had done differently the first time around. Reflecting back on it and the preceding week of preparation, it is already such a heartwarming memory.

The wedding was broken down into three parts: the first was a small impromptu ceremony by an ordained minister (whom I used to work with at a local New Age shop when I was a teen) in the gazebo of the Roslyn Duck Pond, followed by an early dinner at Bistro Citron in the historical village of Roslyn, then guests were invited back to my mom's house for Champagne, cheese, sweets and Pear Williams that we brought back from France. 

The story behind the location is as a little girl I was always charmed by the Roslyn Duck Pond (which has since been renamed Gerry Park). For my birthday every year, part of my present was to out to the Island from the city to spend the day in the park. Aurélien inherited my love for this park as well as the village a few years ago when we were first dating and I took him to Bistro Citron. Fast forward three years later, it seemed only perfect to host our American wedding dinner there.

Just like the French wedding it poured, but as we were saying our vows, in cinematic perfection the sun peeked out, the birds started to sign and the bells from the village clock tower rang. It was almost like we had planned it.

Here are some shots from our unforgettable day.

Many thanks to Cara and Jen for snapping these photos for us and for being all shades of amazing. The day really flowed so beautifully because of your help! I couldn't have asked for better friends. Merci beaucoup. 


The ducks.

Ceremony location.

Delighted to see Jenna!

 
Chit chat with Cara.


The dress was purchased last year during our trip to L.A at my old haunt vintage shop Ragg Mopp Vintage. Owner Vince who is responsible for 50% of my vintage collection agreed that this 1950's lace and velvet-trimmed dress would be perfect for a wedding reprise. I paired it with a mint green mohair Ralph Lauren cardigan from the 90s and pink tulle Badgley Mischka heels. Aurélien of course wore his white Repettos.



Initially I wanted to redo the fresh mint bouquet that I had at the French wedding but the American mint didn't hold the form, so Kobey at Muscari Flowers put together this blush pink peonies and calla lilies to match my shoes.


Aurel got his very first American barbershop haircut and shave
at Rudy's. The barbershop all the men in my family have been going to since the 50s.


When guests arrived at Bistro Citron they were offered a French 75 or a glass of Champagne garnished with a strawberry. Servers passed lobster tartines, duck confit tacos, truffle deviled eggs and warm Camembert drizzled in honey. I have to mention this because this was a detail missing at my French wedding and was happy to have such an inviting cocktail hour the second time. 

Bistro Citron did an incredible job from start to finish. From the inception, the planning, the table setting (they were aware of all vendettas and followed my table plan accordingly) to the impeccable service throughout the dinner. We, and most importantly the guests were pleased. The restaurant receives nothing but glowing reviews from us. Thank you for helping make our second special day so unforgettable.


The green trellis menus and tented place cards were designed through site Minted

Party favors were mini bottles of Grand Courtage Champagne.
For our pregnant guests or guests in recovery, we offered jars of Albert Ménès rose petal confiture and vintage box cameras.



Taking many trips from my mom's house down to the town of Roslyn and never having quarters to feed the meter, we assumed our guests would be presented with the same dilemma. My mom wrapped up bundles of quarters in tulle and mint green ribbon that Jen helped distribute after the ceremony. Yes, it's a bit odd giving our guests a dollar worth of quarters but at least it prevented them from having to get change at the deli!
 
To truly enjoy the night, we held back from snapping photos at the after party. Without much effort, my mom's house took on a Gatsby vibe (when on Long Island, eh?) with strung café lights and lanterns in the kitchen that extended to the garden, tea lights twinkled in quilted mason jars, vintage Champagne glasses and coupes were set out, the fridge was well stocked with Taittinger, an assortment of Italian and French cheeses, fruit, and sweet meringues were waiting for guests, a playlist of 1930s and 40s jazz played (okay, and a little Zou Bisou Bisou action), and of course an outfit change by me. In colors of yellow and powder blue, Muscari adorned the kitchen and the garden with bursts of spring.


It was the perfect end to an exceptional week. Admittedly, coming back to Paris two days after was a bit of a struggle, something I felt guilty about. This trip has raised some questions for us...how can we manage to somehow live in both cities? My love for both has finally balanced out.



Note: This was not a sponsored post. We were just so pleased with everyone we worked with that we wanted to give them credit for a job extremely well done.

the rudest people in the world.



As many of you know, Aurel and I were back in the States to do a small wedding ceremony for the folks who couldn't make it to France last year. Before I get into the loveliness that is getting married in a duck pond and having an intimate dinner at a bistro in a historical village, I have a little tale that I thought some of you would appreciate.

While the wedding was small with only 30 guests, we still wanted the touches of a traditional wedding and had offered guest favors, tables splashed with gorgeous blush pink peonies, garden green place cards, and printed programs and menus. The week leading up to the wedding turned out to be less of a vacation and more running around to secure these details for our second big day. 

Once our menu was locked down, we ran to get them professionally printed at chain print shop near a mall on Long Island. We entered the printing store and discussed with the clerk what we wanted done. When she realized it was going to be a bigger job than a simple photo copy as we handed her our USB key, she welcomed us to the back office to discuss further. In the back office, there were other employees and because Aurel is French and I have lived in Paris for many years now, we made the point to make eye contact with all three employees to say hello. They looked up from their work and grunted hello.

"We don't have to do that here," I nudged Aurélien, honoring our pact to speak on English when we are on American soil, "No one cares, especially on Long Island."

"Okay," he accepted, "No hello on Long Island."

"What do you mean?" a woman with bleached yellow hair and big teeth who was sitting across the counter asked, "We say hello here."

I really didn't want to kick off the uber-snotty "Well in Paris..." (so Blue Jasmine, right?) but she appeared to be genuinely interested and even a bit offended, so I did it.

"In Paris," I explained, "It's a cultural expectation to acknowledge staff and employees in a store."

"Well!" She scoffed, "Isn't that interesting coming from the Fah-rench-a?!"

She somehow added two more syllables to the word French, clearly for effect. Aurel and I both nodded and smiled, knowing what she was hinting at and turned to the clerk who was helping us, waiting for our heavy documents to load up.

"I mean," she continued, "I find that very interesting coming from the French!"

Again, we nodded and smiled. I may have even shrugged at this point, but our body language clearly read that we got what she was laying down and were not interested in pursuing it any further.

"Wanna know why I say that?" She asked.

"Well," I muttered without conviction.

"Because the French are guilty for being the rudest people in the world!"

And she went and did it. She clearly couldn't resist. Only on Long Island. I swear, it's the water.

"But are they?" I indulged her. Clearly I couldn't resist either.

"Oh come on!" She said, "They are just awful people! I can't stand them."

"Yeah, well" I nodded, and with a thumb pointing to Aurel said, "He's French."

"Bonjour, guilty as charged." Aurel responded with his hands up. 

Her coworkers all nodded their heads in laughter, as did we, because really, who makes blanket statements about any culture like that anymore? The French are rude? What is this, the 80s? Several days later when we picked up our prints, the same Judgey Jan employee was there. I made a point not to say hello, Aurélien on the other hand approached her and gave her the double French bises and said to her, "Not all French are rude, ma belle."

Just like she was dumbfounded when I informed her that Aurel was French, she stood frozen in her little printer's smock making incoherent noises to somehow make sense of what had happened. She'll be talking about forever when the Frenchman came into her shop and kissed her. Maybe this is what it will take to change her view on the French. They say, if you can reach just one person....

Wedding and New York recap to come soon! 
So, how is everyone?