I don't know about you, but my response to all of the world's chaos has been to minimize. Maybe minimalism is every society's response to madness, or maybe I just had too much stuff. I got rid of over half my books. I didn't need them. Or DVD's. Or extra towels. I didn't need most of the square footage of my house, so I started looking to downsize into a tiny mobile home. The list of little ways I cut the crap on the regular goes on and on and on, but one impact I didn't realize it was going to have... was on weddings.
As if they knew I was planning to write this blog post, the Knot Pro's most recent email was about the average cost of weddings nationwide. The national average rides somewhere right around $30,000, but if you're planning a wedding in my state? That average skyrockets to a mildly unfathomable $64,471.
It is, needless to say, at an all time high. Even the national average is enough to put a down payment on a house, or pay off two cars, or send your firstborn to college. Twice. When I planned my wedding in 2005, I managed to get it below $10k, and I thought, even this is excessive. The house I'm looking at buying right now is half that. A whole house for less than I would have paid for my own wedding.
Excess has always given me the bad chills. My mother tells a story about how she bought a six-pack of cupcakes from a corner store when she was ten, and then ate all of them in one sitting. That's the kind of diabetic shock I'm talking about when I think of the excess in a modern wedding celebration.
There's a not-zero chance that you feel the same way, so I drummed something up just for our kind of people. It's called Tiny Park, and it's my (wild, wonderful, artistic) response to the madness. If the big party sings to your heart, you have that big party. But if your heart calls you somewhere relaxed, simple, and serene- we should talk.
Working in the wedding industry, I see clearly that the majority of couples these days have zero tolerance for insanity. I hear all the time from brides and grooms who have anxiety, they can't handle being the center of attention, they don't know how they're going to stand in front of 150 people and speak aloud. I see over and over again the imbalance where one partner is stuck deep planning a huge party (because they think they have to), and the other partner just wants to get married (because that's what's important). I believe that your wedding shouldn't be about how many Facebook friends and estranged relatives you can invite to the thousand-dollar dress party. It should be (simply) about the two of you, who you are, the ones you love, and the absolute beauty of the moment that changes everything.
I wanted to create something I could offer as an alternative. I have high standards for what a wedding deserves to be, without insisting we break the bank in order to create it.Somewhere, somehow, I could meet the system halfway. An elopement package specifically designed to pare down the opulence, pomp, and excess into one sweet little deal. Exactly what you're looking for, and hopefully better than you could have ever expected.
Tiny Park is designed to be able to pop up anywhere. I chose one of my favorite parks as the backdrop this time. Yes, a tiny park. But think about all the ways a Tiny Park wedding could come to you and whip up a tiny wedding in any favorite place on earth. A favorite library? Park? Cemetery? Backyard? Rock climbing gym? Record shop? Brewery basement? Abandoned mausoleum?
(But maybe it should have bathrooms.)
Thank you so much for hanging out! If a tiny wedding in a tiny park sounds like just the ticket, you should probably hit me up. In the mean time,