If you’ve ever picked up a copy of Vogue or Vanity Fair, then you’ve probably seen the cluster of pages toward the frontispiece wherein celebrities mill about at some party you’ve never heard of, wearing designer looks you can’t afford, clutching each other’s arms in an attempt to look like friends.
It’s disingenuous, dripping in diamonds…and, according to the PR firm what handles Marc and I, a celebrity rite of passage.
Knowing how loathe I am to participate in events and efforts that haven’t fully claimed my heart, Marc suggested that we throw our own Vogue-spread party, rather than attending some random soiree to fulfill our duties.
I agreed with the stipulation that it couldn’t benefit our own private coffers–no JS Design party–and it couldn’t capitalize on JS Home for Children–no sad orphan benefit.
He said that left either a massive birthday party for one of us, or, a massive wedding vow renewal party. And as we had already missed his 2100th birthday, and my 200th isn’t for another two years…
So, we had a gigantic vow renewal. We had an enormous guest list, ridiculous, designer party favours, an astronomical liquor bill, and…
…a smashing good time, I must admit.
This has mostly to do with Marc’s graceful party planning. He started from a small list of requirements–that we actually renew our vows before our children, that we have a few readings by our best mates, that we forgo gifts in lieu of donations to a core set of causes, and that the focus of the event be about companionship, family, and fun. And from that he extrapolated out into a live band, a romantic setting, plush food and silver, and photographers.
So, it was sort of like a party within a party. Marc was delighted to run about in extroverted outer ring, thanking people for donations, telling well placed anecdotes, and fielding compliments and cameras. I was delighted to monitor the interior, checking on the children, introducing our mates around, and visiting the children’s tent off to the side of the event. And we were both delighted to find the opportunities where the circles ran together–on the dance floor, primarily.
We took tango lessons for the occasion. Went over well.
Oh, and Elvis led the band. NBD.
And, I like to think, we kept it genuine. Marc’s tearful vows were the most beautiful, heartfelt words he’s ever said to me. Our best mates–Ed and Jacques–stood up with us and our children, despite the PR firm begging us to ‘use notables’. I surprised Marc with a drag performance to close out the evening, launching into a few 1980s power ballads whilst wearing the first costume he ever made me. And so on.
So, overall, I’m glad that we threw the party, and that we threw it in our own idiosyncratic way. I’m glad that our children and friends were able to witness Marc and I recommit to each other, reaffirming not only our love but also their roles within it. And I’m glad that everyone seemed to have a good time, and that our causes fared well.
Now all that’s left is to go through literally thousands of photos.
Open bars do make for incriminating scenes…