Vogue’s wedding announcements are aspirational schadenfreude: they allow you to peek into the lifestyle of the super-rich, while simultaneously reassuring you that most of the couples featured are totally detached from reality, as they are likely tasked with the continuance of stiff, modern-day dynasties. The announcements are God’s gift to the normal.
But the magazine’s article about Lauren Schwab and Bobby Webster’s East Hampton wedding (which featured performance and installation art, as well as a silent disco) has outdone all Vogue’s previous work. It is big. It is meaningful. It is immortal. Because of this sentence: