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We got our tuxedos from Woodbury Common—they’re not identical because we didn’t want to be twins. Trent learned to tie a Windsor knot on YouTube.
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Photographs by Sharon Schuster
We splurged on the caterer: We had a soup bar, a bubble tea appetizer, a trio of heirloom-tomato-and-white-peach Tatin, tartare of minted feta and watermelon, and a salad of baby lettuce with sweet-basil vinaigrette. For the Brits (Jeremy’s family) we had a little fish and chips thing and two tea bars.
You never really have time to talk to everyone at these things, but to look out and see someone you love from one part of your life with someone he’s never met before, whom you love from another part of your life — that was one of the coolest parts about the night.
We also had a mini-dessert sampler, to be eaten in a certain order: espresso pots, crème brûlée, bitter-orange panna cotta, cookies, marshmallows, and Mexican chocolate.
They told us to number our tables and we were horrified by the idea, so we gave each table a meaningful name instead: New York Sports Club (which is where we met and where Trent wordlessly handed me a piece of paper with his phone number on it); 824 North Olive, Trent’s first house; Boyz ‘N Berries, Trent’s volleyball team ... Trent seated people of like interests together.
Trent is allergic to flowers, so we put weird plants in quirky antique pots instead. Nothing matched; it was fantastic.