Last night I went to the wedding reception of my friends Ang & Sam. If were going to try and boil what they do down to one compound sentence: Ang is in the profession and possibly the most amazing reader I’ve ever known, I’ve never known anyone to read like Ang; Sam’s a terrific photographer who has a day job that pays the bills. They got married, a private ceremony (followed by a dinner for family at Frontera in the private room! wahoo for them!). Then the next night, they had a reception so we could all celebrate with them. It was lovely. It was so very them – which I think is the chief accomplishment of any party, dwelling space, outfit, whatever. I love when I can see a manifestation of someone’s self in material things, isn’t that what they’re for, other than being useful? I mean, a bed to sleep on and a pan to fry things in – those are basics. If it were like scratching an itch, we’d all have the same everything, but we don’t, and when we think about what it would be like if we did, it results in books like 1984. Someone recently told me my apartment was “just like me” and it was one of the nicest things I think anyone has said to me in a while.

When you can take a space or some fabric or an event and truly make it yours, that brings it a perfect, unique beauty – not because of the things themselves, but because they shine a light on something else … isn’t that perhaps why the line in Fight Club about being the world’s most unique snowflake is simultaneously so cutting and so resonant? Because as much as we might want to fit in with people, I think we also want to be ourselves, to be different. (This self-expression through stuff can get out of hand. I’m not supporting that.)

Anyway. This is supposed to be about an event. So they had the reception at Ang’s father’s home, and they had a truly amazing tent (seems like the wrong noun, so august a structure it was) in the backyard, and a degustation of 6 courses followed by sublime donuts and homemade ice cream, and it was simply lovely. For a favor, they gave out packets of four of Sam’s photos of Chicago in black & white as postcards. I’ll leave you with just two of the images, and you can go check out his flickr account. No there aren’t any of the wedding there – I think, for once, he was off duty. 🙂