This is not the story of the endless succession of jewellers we visited until we thought all rings looked the same. Nor is it the story of the myriad of things we had to learn about diamonds. It’s not even the story of the hot shot designer’s salesperson who insisted on telling me what I wanted even though it was the complete opposite of what I had just said. It’s actually the story about rings that has a happy ending and Lily Kamper made it happen. Continue reading
Very early on, we decided that our wedding would be just that. Ours. And even though that has not always been possible and we have been forced by love and law to not behead our families and them us, there are still things that are a perfect representation of who we are. Like our wedding invitations. Continue reading
Do you know how many mains the average Greek family cooks to convince the other family that they are hospitable (and not poor)? Four. This does not include salads, sides, entrees and desserts (all in stomach stretching and waistline expanding plural). Welcome, to the wonderful world of the Greek pre-wedding ritual. Continue reading
To save you the trouble of reading the rest of the post here is the easy answer: Be sufficiently old (over 35 will do) or sufficiently independent for them to have given up on you ever tying the knot – making just the fact that you are getting married enough for them to be
eternally relieved and grateful for about five minutes. Continue reading
The moment we decided to get married (yes, this happened) the world shifted. Not in some romantic googly eyes sort of way but in a social norms kind of way. People who tell you that “nothing changes”? They lie. Continue reading
Just in case you hadn’t heard, young Greeks seem to be migrating abroad en masse. I moved over a decade ago and I used to be one of the very few who had to take an international flight to be at a special occassion but lately more and more of us at those events come from abroad.
This time we took a trip for a wedding taking place in Ierapetra, Crete (the city of never ending summer as my friend Z. calls it). Continue reading