I was always afraid of going on stage for my own wedding. In my head, I had no idea what I was supposed to do — other than smile, stand still, and pose for the camera. Nope, that wasn’t my intention or the purpose of having dinner with everyone. Especially when not everyone knows one another, I wanted to seize the time to truly be present with everyone.
I’ve attended many friends’ weddings before, and every time, it was beautiful. I cried quietly in my heart, felt genuinely happy for them, and had so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to hug them properly, to talk, to really share the moment with them. But the usual flow was always the same: congratulate the newlyweds, take a photo (not even a selfie), exchange wishes, and then be seated for dinner.
That made me realise something.
I didn’t want my dinner to feel like that — and this was my tea ceremony dinner. It should be fun. At least, chill. I didn’t want a hotel ballroom or a big, formal setting. I wanted an intimate dinner with the people closest to me — where I could talk to anyone I wanted, hug anyone I loved, and walk around freely whenever I felt like it.
So I decided to plan the dinner myself.
It felt huge to me. There were many things to think about, and honestly, it wasn’t easy. Looking back now, it was deeply memorable.
Sleepless nights — trust me.
People usually do head-to-toe makeovers for their wedding. Me? I didn’t even have time to do my lashes, brows, or whatever else people usually do. Everything was last minute, lol.
Nails? Nope. No time for that either.
I actually planned two outfits for that night, and you know what? I wore slippers — or went barefoot — most of the time. It was just easier for me to move around smoothly.
And you know what? All the imperfections felt perfect to me.
We’re always taught to strive for perfection. But sometimes, in moments like this, imperfection is what allows us to breathe, to move, to be ourselves.
It wasn’t about being perfect.
It was about being present — sharing real conversations, real hugs, and real moments with the people who mattered most.
And that, to me, made it everything I hoped my wedding would be.
╰┈➤
I planned everything from A to Z.
From the invitation card layout, to deciding what kind of playlist should be playing that night — every detail came from my own hands (and many late nights).
We had a full white canopy, soft chandeliers hanging above with dim, warm light. Brown wooden chairs lined the tables, paired with green and white floral arrangements — simple, calm, and exactly how I imagined it. Nothing loud, nothing overdone. Just enough to feel warm and welcoming.
It wasn’t about impressing anyone. It was about creating a space where people could sit comfortably, talk freely, and feel at home. That's my intention.
Looking at it now, the setting reflected everything I wanted the dinner to be — intimate, unpretentious, and full of quiet moments in between conversations.
I’ve always been afraid of having a “流水线” wedding video — the kind that looks the same at every dinner, just played on repeat. That wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted something unique, something fun, something with personality.
I also hate the idea of waking up early — which is exactly why I skipped the 兄弟姐妹团 and the gate-crashing session (the traditional Chinese wedding games).
No early alarms. No rushed schedules. No performing first thing in the morning.
I chose sleep. And honestly? No regrets.
Sometimes, doing less is the best decision.
More importantly, I wanted the vibe to feel right. I wanted people whose aesthetic, energy, and way of seeing things were on the same page as mine. People who could capture not just how the night looked, but how it felt.
Not staged. Not forced.
Next, this part is very me. I think. A bit chaotic.
Because I didn’t really have any manpower that night, a few things were missed — and thinking back now, it’s actually quite funny.
For example, the table seating.
Most people didn’t even realise there was a seating arrangement, so the seating cards ended up being more decorative than functional. I had actually put some thought into it — I even grouped friends who were single and available together, hoping they might get a chance to talk, connect, or at least make a new friend.
I liked the idea of my friends meeting one another, of unfamiliar faces slowly becoming mutual friends over dinner.
Another thing I missed — if you’ve read my blog and didn’t bring anything home, I’m so sorry. That one’s on me.
You were absolutely welcome to pick your favourite St Dalfour mini jam, take a flower, or grab some imported chocolates to bring home. I just forgot to announce it properly. Thankfully, I managed to verbally remind some of you during the night — whenever it crossed my mind — so my house wouldn’t end up completely overwhelmed with real flowers.
A little messy. A little imperfect.
But somehow, very on brand for me.
Well. I don't know what to continue. Let me digest more and come up with a 2025 closing post
˚˖𓍢🌷✧˚.🎀⋆
ciao! xx
