Calling all black-tie brides! A “Great Gatsby”-themed wedding is the perfect way to combine sophisticated style with conspicuous consumption, in an approachable way. (It’s a short book, after all!)
Start by finding the perfect venue. A historic mansion is the obvious choice here, preferably a coastal one with a pool. Really go over the top. Your venue says a lot about you as a couple, and in this case it should say “status-conscious” and “new money.”
Your invitations will set the tone for the whole event. Not only will they offer your guests some idea of how formal the wedding will be, they also are a great way to reveal your colors. Go for geometric metallic patterns and an ominous font. Address each of your guests as “old sport.”
Don’t skimp on the period details. The smallest flourishes are what your guests will remember most! Find unique combinations of vintage stamps for your invitations! Create a tableau around the escort-card table using antique finds like hatboxes and a candlestick telephone. When you sneak off from the reception for a moment alone, you can use that phone to make a discreet call to your paramour.
This should be a no-children event. In fact, guests who have children should completely forget about their existence.
Be a little weird with your opposite-sex cousin.
Alcohol is obviously a must. You’ll need approximately eight hundred coupe champagne glasses, regardless of your actual head count. And for a signature cocktail? That would have to be mint juleps! Specifically, so many mint juleps that each guest feels acutely ill.
But, if you and your fiancé would like to fully commit to the Gatsby theme, you should not drink at all, nor should you interact with your guests. Instead, observe them from a high staircase (or other available lofty vantage point) in stony silence.
Also, ditch the classic bouquet toss! Instead, pelt your guests with hundreds and hundreds of exquisitely tailored men’s shirts.
After the party, head to a glam hotel, like the Plaza. Drive recklessly.
Before you race off to your future of grim acceptance of one another, share a quiet moment, perhaps at the end of a dock. There, you can stare longingly into the distance and think of the people you each would rather have married.[“Source-newyorker”]