It starts with your story.

Before I write a single word of your ceremony, I want to know all about you. How you met. What makes you laugh. The things that you love about each other – and perhaps the things that drive you slightly mad. The stories your friends have heard a hundred times, the songs that mean something, and all those tiny details that might seem completely ordinary to everyone else.

Because those are the bits I’m listening for. They’re the bits that make your story yours.

More than words can say.

A ceremony has its own rhythm. There are the words, of course, but there are also the pauses, the laughter that catches you by surprise, the look you give each other when nobody else quite knows what it means, and sometimes the moment when everything goes completely off-script.

I don’t want your ceremony to feel like something you have to perform. I want you to be able to settle into it, look around, take it all in and actually enjoy being there. Having got to know each other prior to the day, it will feel like a friend greeting you at the end of the aisle.

There can be stories, music, promises and laughter, quiet moments and wonderfully silly ones. We’ll find what belongs in yours and leave out everything that doesn’t.

The story doesn’t end at “I do.”

There’s something rather wonderful about choosing each other all over again.

A vow renewal isn’t about recreating your wedding day. It’s about everything that has happened since. The life you’ve built, the adventures you’ve had, the difficult bits you’ve weathered, the ordinary Tuesdays, the family you may have gathered around you – and all the versions of yourselves you’ve been along the way.

It can be just the two of you somewhere that means something, or a room full of people who have been part of your story. There are no rules to follow and nothing you have to prove. Just a chance to stop for a moment, look at the person beside you and say: I’d choose you again.

Just the two of you. Or nearly.

There’s something lovely about stripping everything back and keeping only what matters.

An elopement can be a quiet ceremony in the woods, a little cottage somewhere beautiful, a garden, a beach, a place with history – somewhere that feels like an escape from everything else for a while.

It might just be the two of you, or a handful of the people you love most. There’s no need for a huge guest list or a timetable packed with traditions simply because that’s how weddings are usually done.

Just the tow of you, a place that means something, and a ceremony that gives you space to actually be in the moment.

Shall we begin?

If you’re planning a wedding, vow renewal or elopement, I’d love to hear about it – the people, the place, the feeling you want to create, and all the little things that will make it yours. Warmth, heart and a little bit of laughter are usually a very good place to start.