how we picked a place
Least surprising statement ever: I always knew where I wanted to get married. When I was 13, my parents took me on one of the most memorable trips of my life: New York City. I'd been here many times before since we had family on both sides in the area, but this time we actually got to stay in a hotel and celebrate the most awesome of birthdays: actually becoming a TEENAGER. By the end of the weekend, after being wined and dined (sparkling apple cider, duh), wandering 5th Avenue, and taking in a show or two, I was hooked. I knew without a doubt that at the first opportunity, I'd make this city my home, preferably in a maisonette facing the Park. I am my mother's daughter.
However the most magical element of that whole weekend was an equally magnificent landmark: The Plaza. I'd never seen a lobby so beautiful, views so breathtaking or felt more like a princess than I did during that stay. As a parting gift, my mother picked up a copy of A Plaza Wedding. This was, in retrospect, a huge mistake. From that moment on when I pictured my wedding, it wasn't a hazy dreamscape with white flowers and a big white dress. No: it was in the Grand Ballroom with Jude Law and I'm pretty sure I was wearing a tiara. Or two.
Earlier this year, when it was actually time to pick a venue, I wasn't planning on visiting The Plaza. It just didn't seem feasible that my fantasy could actually turn into a reality. But once we narrowed down our guest list to a number less than the size of Manhattan, we were still left with well over 300. That, unfortunately rules out a lot of space. But not The Plaza. And let's be honest, I was DYING to take the tour and get to take an actual twirl on that ballroom floor.
It was over as soon as I walked through the door. I knew this was the place. And here I must give a shout out the wonderful and amazing Emily, who was our tour guide and now our mind-blowingly awesome wedding planner. From the Terrace Room, where you get married to, of course, the Grand Ballroom, it was like I was in a fairy tale, except I could wear jeans and there were no dwarves (Side note: I swear to GOD I was visited by a friendly dwarf spirit the very first time I visited The Plaza. He was dressed like a lumberjack and appeared on my bed). From when I visited to when we actually signed the papers took a few months (and I visited a lot of venues in between), but when it was finally reality, it felt like, well, fate. It sounds silly, I'm totally aware, but it's so rare that childhood dreams ever evolve into real life, I feel very lucky. Mike: thank you.