Throw caution (and traditions) to the wind. Elope and get married.
No joke. I have the photos to prove it.
The photo of ducks has nothing to do with the day. I just liked it and wanted to pretend I was building suspense.
I should probably explain myself.
After Kris proposed we had every intention of waiting to get married. We were going to wait until Kris had finished his PhD and then we’d planned to go back to the UK for a few months or so and sort something out there. You know, decide on a place, invite people, have a do and all the rest of that wedding malarkey that people talk about.
But then we decided that Kris’ mum was right: New York would be a great place to get married. So we did.
I picked a dress from the 10 I own in my wardrobe, I dyed my hair (and then didn’t wash it for the first week of the holiday to keep it bright for the wedding), I even wore a necklace–which turned my neck green when it got wet from rain or sweat. We popped down to the City Clerks Office one morning and told them we’d like to get married. They said OK and we came back a week later with our witness slash photographer. Who, I should add, made the whole thing a lot of fun and we now have some really nice photos to look back on (Samm Blake, if you’re wondering). We’d already agreed, the only thing we’d like to spend money on and have done right, were the photographs. The rest of it, we bought from home or we just didn’t bother with it.
We didn’t tell any one, except our immediate families, and invited them to join us via Skype for the approximately 60 second ceremony. Really. I blinked and next thing I knew I was married. We didn’t bother with anything fancy, no hair, no make up, no special clothes, all we wanted was to spend the day together, chuckle a little (OK, there was a lot of chuckling) and eat Thai food for dinner. And that’s what we did.
Not too bad for a Tuesday afternoon in rainy New York City.