Vogue’s wedding announcements are aspirational schadenfreude: they allow you to peek into the lifestyle of the super-rich, while simultaneously reassuring you that most of the couples featured are totally detached from reality, as they are likely tasked with the continuance of stiff, modern-day dynasties. The announcements are God’s gift to the normal.
But the magazine’s article about Lauren Schwab and Bobby Webster’s East Hampton wedding (which featured performance and installation art, as well as a silent disco) has outdone all Vogue’s previous work. It is big. It is meaningful. It is immortal. Because of this sentence:
“It truly was this Burning Man meets chic Hamptons garden soiree with Hawaiian bonfire and bluegrass music lovefest,” gushed Marissa Vosper, Schwab’s close friend and business partner.
I wish I could quote more, about how the butterfly headdresses worn by performance artists were inspired by Radiolab, or how seating assignments were hung from “sphagnum moss falling from the boughs of a weeping cherry tree,” but I can’t, because I am dead.
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