The Guardian (USA)

Gen Z says weddings should be cheaper. Here’s how to make that happen

- Suki Lanh

The cost of living crisis. Mass layoffs. Inflation. To quote a meme: “You want to have a wedding?! In this economy?!”

Actually, yes. Despite a challengin­g economic landscape and the average cost of a US wedding being $30,000 to $50,000, gen Z is still saying “we do”. (The average cost was $27,000 in 2006.)

There was a time when weddings didn’t cost the equivalent of college tuition. For instance, before weddings became huge social events, many churchgoin­g Americans in the 1940s and 1950s hosted cake and punch weddings. These were exactly what they sounded like – a ceremony in a church followed by a cake and punch reception in the basement. You’re in, you’re out, you’re married.

Before that, most weddings took place at home in the presence of a minister, followed by a small house party. It wasn’t until mass communicat­ion was introduced – newspapers, magazines, and eventually social media – that people were exposed to a vision of what a wedding “should” look like.

Today, weddings can cost as much as a down payment on a home. Many engaged people find themselves weighing the pros and cons between putting money towards a wedding or buying a house. (There’s even a show on Netflix about this called Marriage or Mortgage. Most people choose the marriage.)

There’s also the option of taking on debt for a wedding. Many couples take loans or credit cards to cover major wedding expenses. The thought process, often seeded by the influence of peers or well-meaning loved ones, is: “Why wouldn’t you splurge on a oncein-a-lifetime celebratio­n?”

I recall grabbing drinks with my friends, a married couple who’d had their epic once-in-a-lifetime celebratio­n over eight years ago. The wedding theme was Cinderella, and there were over 200 guests. They didn’t seem to regret it, but one of them mused aloud about waiting to be in a better spot financiall­y before considerin­g kids.

“We still have to pay off our wedding before that happens,” their partner sipped drily.

In my day job as an editor at Offbeat Wed, a blog dedicated to featuring nontraditi­onal weddings, I’ve noticed a trend of gen Z couples opting for lowkey weddings.

My colleague, the Offbeat Wed publisher, Ariel Stallings, says gen Z is recognizin­g which aspects of weddings are important to them (dressing up, making it official, having media to share) and scrapping everything else (feeding people, sending fancy invites, dealing with venues and accommodat­ions).

Last year, Newsweek teamed up with the consulting firm Redfield and Wilton Strategies to survey 1,500 eligible US voters about how much they thought an average wedding should cost. Newsweek found that 25% of gen Z respondent­s aged 18 to 25 believed $10,000-$20,000 was a reasonable budget for a wedding. This was a dramatic contrast to the 21% of millennial­s aged 25 to 35 and 25% of millennial­s aged 35 to 44 who claimed weddings should be $50,000 or more.

Pre-Covid, low-key weddings were rarer and not typically featured in mainstream wedding media. The wedding industrial complex generally isn’t keen on budget-friendly, low-key ceremonies – that would mean less money going back into a $70bn business sector.

But the pandemic hit a reset button on the entire industry. Now, we’re seeing more weddings that are simple and affordable.

The rise in nontraditi­onal weddings comes with a new ideology: that there’s no wrong way to celebrate. Whether it’s a $500 Wiccan micro-wedding or a $6,000 camping wedding, to see two people in love celebrate in a way that’s authentic to them should be a blessing.

Here are some of the ways gen Z couples lean into low-key weddings.

Just the ceremony

A wedding without a reception is still a wedding. You can invite a small number of guests to participat­e in the ceremony, then call it a day.

Rachael Rice and David Knape, from Portland, Oregon, opted for this approach for their micro-wedding on Mount Tabor in 2021.

“There were no bridesmaid­s, no flower girl, no maid of honor, no best man. There was no after-party, no toasts, no speeches. And you know what? It was fucking great,” Rice wrote at the time. “There is absolutely no reason to hemorrhage that kind of coin on a wedding when so many people are being evicted, becoming houseless, relapsing, suffering from lack of collective care. We spent less than $1,000 on our nuptials, including my $31 dress from eBay.”

Rice is still beyond happy with their choice to have a low-key wedding. “We saved a tremendous amount of money,” she told me. “I did my own hair and makeup, we repurposed my parents’ JCPenney gold wedding rings, and we bought a chantilly cake from the grocery! I made my magnolia bouquet out of crepe paper. Most importantl­y, no one at our wedding got Covid.”

Elopement

For couples who want to prioritize certain elements – say, fashion and photograph­y – but stick to a smaller budget, eloping checks all the boxes. Not only do you get to skip the drama that comes with a guest list, but you can also have a slower, less chaotic day that’s truly just about the two of you. And you’ll still get something great – for example, magazine-cover worthy photos, like David Armendariz and Jesse Gudiño from Houston, Texas, did.

Armendariz and Gudiño decided to elope to Spain after rescheduli­ng their wedding ceremony three times due to Covid restrictio­ns. They told me they spent about $5,000 on their elopement and saved about $40,000.

Micro-weddings

A micro-wedding has a small guest list – up to 20 people. This means your budget can go way further. It’s a nice way to include traditiona­l aspects of a wedding like florals, decor and food, but on a much smaller scale.

Caroline and Price Taggart from Austin, Texas, had a backyard microweddi­ng that cost about $500. “A nineperson wedding can be just as intimate and special as a 100-person wedding,” Caroline said. “We felt so much love that night, and because it was intimate I know every guest felt it too.”

Small ceremony, big afterparty

Some couples do a quick wedding ceremony where they read their vows; their budget goes to an epic party. For those who don’t enjoy public speaking, a private vow reading is an intimate low-key option. I’ve heard of introvert weddings, where the partners exchange vows in private, then join their guests at the reception.

Skip the DJ and dine out

You can also go the opposite route and have a small celebratio­n after the ceremony, instead of a reception. One New York couple had their wedding ceremony in Central Park on a Monday, then hopped on the subway to meet their friends for dinner at their favorite restaurant.

A nontraditi­onal ceremony

Instead of a traditiona­l wedding ceremony, Marilyn Carkner and Jesse Inoncillo from Hudson Valley, New York, held a Halloween handfastin­g – a longstandi­ng alternativ­e union – next to a cemetery.

“We were uncomforta­ble with having a big to-do but still wanted to have fun with our friends and dress up,” they said. “Our little backyard wedding was a perfect compromise. We were able to spend time with everyone individual­ly because we weren’t spread thin trying to greet and thank dozens of people.”

The total cost before tips – including officiant, caterer, photograph­er and DIY supplies – was under $3,000. “We have been and will continue to recommend a more intimate wedding experience to anyone who will listen,” Carkner said. “Small and cozy was absolutely the right choice for us.”

 ?? ?? Marilyn Carkner and Jesse Inoncillo's Halloween wedding. Photograph: DNA photograph­y
Marilyn Carkner and Jesse Inoncillo's Halloween wedding. Photograph: DNA photograph­y
 ?? ?? Caroline and Price Taggart’s dog poses for the camera. Photograph: Keaton Hutto Photograph­y
Caroline and Price Taggart’s dog poses for the camera. Photograph: Keaton Hutto Photograph­y

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