By Jess Dickerson
Founding Artist at The Dreamer's Outlet
Ten years ago today, I threw the best party of my life (so far). The events included a bilingual ceremony by a pond, a twinkling backyard reception with a dance floor in the center circle of ancestral trees, and a drive up the east coast to a state where same-sex marriage was legal. It was a time to remember and on this 10 year anniversary, I invite you to remember it with me with this series of blogs.
The year was 2013 and our dreams of a fall wedding were heavily inspired by our Pinterest
boards. We saw lace and leaves and a spectrum of beige and taupe. Getting to that dream would be a journey. From where we sat, it felt almost impossible: fresh out of the closet, living in a state in Mexico where our marriage could not be legal, nor in my home town in Florida, language barriers among family members, and mounds of other obstacles. But we had a dream, and I was determined to see it through. Looking back at the courage, creativity and consistency it took to make this wedding happen, I am reminded that I can do anything I put my mind to.
The engagement.
Our engagement was also storybook. She proposed to me on a footbridge at sunset at a local beach resort in Mexico. I have to say, she truly surprised me. I remember the gasp I let out and her raw emotion in her expression of love and devotion. The ring was a thoughtful non-diamond, because she knew I didn’t really like the cliche stone. Instead it was a mystic topaz that caught a spectrum of colors.
Months later we were visiting friends of ours in New York. We knew them from our life in Yucatan, but they had gone home to NYC for the holidays. While visiting my father’s side of the family in Philly, we were excited to hop a train and meet up with our friends. Elizabeth was a gemologist from Queens with years of experience in the Diamond District in NYC. I gave her my modest budget for an engagement ring and she went looking for the perfect stone. I got the Skype call where she unveiled the finished ring. A classic setting with a nearly perfect stone. She swore going smaller but more perfect (Cut, Color, Carat) was the way to go. I was nervous about that but when I saw it in person, it felt like the bling could slice my eyes.
We toured the city all morning, Elizabeth’s British husband, Evan, took us on a foot tour after lunch and he led me to the entrance of Central Park where we could stroll over a footbridge or two until I found the right moment. Upon the first bridge we were crowded by a couple having an engagement photoshoot. We
wandered around to a second one and I tried to get the box out of my pocket but with my gloved hand it got stuck and she was getting cold in the cross breeze so that moment slipped away. Then, we found ourselves nestled on a park bench between some trees looking out over the water at the iconic NYC skyline beyond the bridge. I ripped off my glove and in the dead of winter lost feeling in my fingers immediately. I wasn’t sure if I was holding the ring in my fingers when I pulled it out and I was shivering through my words, but I managed to share some thoughts and ask her to marry me too. She said yes (surprise, surprise) and we enjoyed that moment before the cold swept us up to find warmth and a good dinner. I remember the cutting feeling of that ring on her had hitting my eyes over dinner and I felt immense gratitude to be able to live such a beautiful moment with my best friend.
The dresses.
We were in Mexico and finding a good modista was a matter of asking the framily. We consulted with the dress-maker who made our bridesmaids dresses for our best friend’s wedding a few years back. She had years of experience making wedding dresses but she had never made two dresses for the same wedding. We brought her best friend’s little bro, a young gay man with years of pulling off epic house parties and dreams of becoming a professional wedding and event planner. His support in this moment turned out to be priceless and he held on for the whole ride. I honestly don’t know how we would have gotten through the event without him. He gave a top-notch service and was the real hand behind bringing our dreams into reality.
Little did we know that he and the modista were conspiring to make sure our dresses were a reflection of our individual visions while at the same time ensuring that there was some sort
of cohesion when standing together. This woman took the lace from my own mother’s dress, that had yellowed with the years, and carefully removed it, soaked it in some solution and restored its beautiful bright bliss. She added that around the neckline and crawling up the train. She also picked some beautiful lace from a local textiles shop to bring a more modern look to it. I felt like
royalty in my dress with a keyhole and loooong row of buttons up the back and perfect a V neck for my tatas. When I saw my bride for the first time, I was stunned by her beauty in her own lacy dress with a keyhole neckline that set hers apart, and her own flavor of lace trickling down the front.
Our dresses came equipped with the latest technology in bustling, which we would forget to engage until after our first dance at the wedding reception. We twirled and twirled under the flickering votive chandelier of sorts cast between these ancestral trees in my parents’ backyard. It was one of the dreamy details our wedding planner flawlessly and tirelessly
executed for us. After my cousin stepped up as MC and announced our dance, I remember walking onto the dance floor, holding my beloved’s hand and looking up to thank the trees who have watched so many milestones in my life. I’ve known them for lifetimes, however, in this lifetime, since I was 4. They provided me the leaves to jump in in the fall as my parents would tirelessly rake and bag them. They watched my trampoline and swings days. They held the lead for the few family dogs we were blessed to love and learn from, they held many hammocks over the years and gave me a love for lounging and swinging, even before I would move to the country that would teach me the joys and functionality of hammock culture. These trees even held the tiny graves for the few guinea pigs we loved to the other side. So on this day, I thanked them for being there and loving me through it all. Suddenly I was lost in a swirl of un-bustled dress trains and to on-lookers, it was said to be a beautiful image of union to the sound of Adele - Make You Feel My Love on the dance floor.
We had photos by the pond, photos with our bridal party, photos with guests, photos in the getaway car… and our dresses framed the beauty of each moment.
My favorite photo of the whole day was this one of us holding hands and running up the aisle in perfect union as the flower petals are tossed over us. All you see are the dresses and as a stand-alone image, it felt pretty epic. Love and beauty in resistance to laws that said it couldn’t be done. We weren’t legally married on this day, that story will come with a future blog, but we believed in the right to walk this path for ourselves. And we did.
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