Weddings. We don't talk about them much here, because we try not to do too many of them here. As a florist, it's normal and even expected to book yourself silly every weekend during peak season- to become a wedding factory and arrange flowers machine-gun style. That way of working isn't for me, and I relish staying small so I can do only the jobs that inspire me.
When Jamie Beck emailed me about her wedding at The Carlyle, it was like hearing from Grace Kelly incarnate. She is every florist's dream bride- an incredibly talented photographer with a legendary sense of style and she was hands-off in the best sense. When you trust your clients and they trust you, beautiful things are bound to happen.
The above photos were taken by the eyepoppingly good London based Kate Murphy. The ceremony was in a suite overlooking Central Park and I made a big garland decorated with peonies and roses to frame Jamie and Kevin. Only in very rare occasions do true simplicity and glamour get to meet, and their ceremony was one of those moments.
Back on planet earth, if you leave a bucket of priceless garden roses and peonies in the hall outside a hotel room at the Carlyle even for just a few minutes, the supremely attentive housekeeping staff will "tidy" it up for you. That that means your assistant will spend that next 30 minutes digging through garbage cans to salvage what's left of the extra flowers you brought to gussy up the already finished centerpieces for the reception. Deep breaths, everybody- it worked out in the end and I had enough time to take lots of photos of the flowers.
The only direction Jamie gave me was that she wanted something light for the ceremony and something a bit more colorful for the reception. We used summer fruit as the palette- peach, apricot, plum, raspberry and cherry. I bought baskets of fruit at the farmers market, more than I could carry, and clustered them with the centerpieces to make little dutch paintings for her guests. I kept popping overripe cherries in my mouth and worrying I'd ruin the linens with my cherry-stained fingers.
When it was all said and done, Francecsa and I huddled in the bathroom of the Carlyle, brushing hairs and applying lipstick. We waltzed into the storybook Bemelmans Bar and sipped some champagne cocktails and ordered onion rings. We waltzed out 2 hours later, and went into Central Park to watch the sunset from a hill at 78th street while Jamie and Kevin got married above.