Here’s a great little commentary by Em Rusciano on a real wedding that was recently featured in Vogue. The article originally appeared in 

“YOU know when you read something that is so utterly, stupendously ridiculous on so many levels, that you inevitably come full circle, and end up sitting in quiet admiration of its very existence?

Vogue Weddings provided such an experience for me when they covered the wedding of Lauren Schwab and Bobby Webster. Lauren co-founded a fancy undies label and Bob is the something something, strategy finance, upper sector, level ten managing director of an NBA team. So in short, they have plenty of cash. Good for them! Vogue opens by telling us that Lozz and Bob:

“Set out to buck tradition with their wedding. What they ultimately pulled off was nothing short of a crowning study in creative ingenuity.”

OK, settle down Vogue, we’ll be the judge of that.

Can anyone quickly tell me what a crowning study is?

The wedding was held at Lauren’s parents’ mega mansion in South Hampton. I’ve seen enough Beverly Hills 90210 to know that’s ‘rich white people’ territory. A land of pastel sweaters tied at a jaunty angle over shoulders, tanned legs and white linen pants that never seem to wrinkle.

While my parents have a bird house Dad got from Bunnings, her parents have:

“Dramatic sculpture gardens and art-colliding landscapes (where permanent installations from the likes of Yoko Ono, Willem de Kooning, and Dale Chihuly are scattered throughout the property).”

Because of course they do.

(I didn’t know Yoko was into gardening. I wonder if she could recommend a good mulch?)

Lauren also hired an “aesthetic-in-chief” who auditioned event specialists for the wedding.

OK they just made that title up.

The winners were avant-garde and multidisciplinary artists Shige Moriya and Ximena Garnica.

OK they just made those names up.

Now these guys have, of course, never actually done a wedding before, but they often put on events at museums and large stage shows, so I guess the AIC felt they were right to handle the bonbonnière selection. (The sugared almonds would no doubt be sourced directly from Narnia)

“Upon arrival, guests were greeted with sound art, presented as a cacophony of small tinkling bells interspersed with more resonant gong sounds in reflection of the Zen ambience of the 16-acre reserve.”

Upon arrival at my wedding, guests were greeted with the sound of me yelling at my Father for getting my frock jammed in the car door.

Same, same.

“To ensure everyone followed the right path toward the ceremony structure, performance artists donning butterfly headdresses provided directions.”

Were these real butterflies? Trained to give directions? Where do I find this army of butterflies so that I may use them for evil? I know, I’m bagging the butterflies: WHY DO I HATE LOVE?!

“Why butterflies, everyone asked?”

Yes Lauren, please tell us why!

“Lauren explained that she and Bobby had been moved by a Radiolab podcast about the transformation of the butterfly in chrysalis, which resonated with them in terms of the transformation that marriage would bring to their relationship.”


Unless these butterflies explained to Lauren how one day, the way Bobby breathes will p*** her off beyond belief, and how he will NEVER actually replace the toilet paper roll on the holder but just kind of balance it precariously on top, then butterflies are NOT an accurate representation of marriage. Wait. Is butterfly Latin for resentment? If it is, I take it all back.

“For the ceremony, the Schwebsters (one of their many affectionate nicknames) had everyone seated in a circle (instead of rows), as to envelop them while they read their vows.”

The Schwebsters?! That sounds like an off-brand TV show with slightly racist characters and a dog with three legs. Also, the circle situation is starting to head well into cult territory. Have all the butterfly girls been accounted for? The ones who are virgins?


“Everyone gently retrieved their seat assignments from sphagnum moss falling from the boughs of a weeping cherry tree before heading inside the Sperry tent.”


This cannot be real.

And just admit it, Sphagnum moss makes you think of jizz, doesn’t it?

Also, how does one ‘gently retrieve’ a seating assignment form the ‘boughs of a weeping cheery tree’? Did the butterflies assist? Besides their directional training were they also instructed in delicate retrieval operations? Rendering them able to carry the seating cards between their tiny wings?!

What about the food? Oh don’t even worry:

“Without a hitch, NYC-based Pinch Food Design served their Willy Wonka — meets — farm-to-table best. Each Michelin star-worthy dish — from the diver scallop cruda with kimchi gastrique, Fuji apples and ginger puree, to the balsamic braised short ribs, creamy potatoes, pine nut gremolata, and broccolini — was presented in highly interactive, playful ways.”

I understand approximately five of those words.

The after-party was a silent disco and I have just about had enough. But then! THEN I read guest Marissa Vosper’s description of the day and I was REBORN.

“It truly was this Burning Man meets chic Hamptons garden soiree with Hawaiian bonfire and bluegrass music lovefest.”

Aka: an epic art infused desert orgy golf day on the beach set to the blues!

Makes sense to me. I mean, how can you not love that?

May they have a long and happy life together.

Em Rusciano is a comedian, writer, singer and regular columnist. You can follow her on Facebook or listen to her podcast.