Not a mission statement. A promise.

I don't photograph weddings. I photograph the people brave enough to choose each other, out loud, in front of everyone they know, wearing uncomfortable shoes for love and absolutely glowing about it. ✨ That's the whole qualification. Love and glow mandatory. Shoes optional.

Stories I have photographed, true story, glitter included:

• Two grooms who got married twice: once for the law, once for their grandmothers, who needed convincing and got it, loudly, with cake
  
• A couple in their seventies who finally had their day after thirty years of "we'll get to it eventually" and zero regrets about the wait (they were actually my grandparents)
  
• A bride walking down the aisle behind her golden retriever ring bearer, muddy paws, unapologetic full main-character energy
  
• A five-day Indian celebration with three hundred guests, four outfit changes, more sequins than I could wish for (lie, there are never too many sequins), and a seating chart that needed its own project manager
  
• Two people and a registrar in a quiet room in Portugal on a Tuesday: somehow just as enormous as the three-hundred-person version
  

None of those days needed to look like each other. They just needed to be true, and ideally a little sparkly.

I am professionally allergic to weddings that look like a catalogue - symmetrical florals, rehearsed smiles, everyone performing "joy" instead of just having it. If I wanted beige, I'd photograph furniture.

What I'm actually looking for in a couple:

• You love each other. Obviously and madly. 🌈
  
• You're capable of being a little ridiculous in public: crying counts, bad dancing counts, your dog or child crashing the ceremony counts double
  
• You don't need your wedding to look like anyone else's: traditional, chaotic, three hundred relatives in their finest sequins, two witnesses and a courthouse - all acceptable, all enthusiastically welcomed, all photographed with the same amount of joy
  

I love a love that sparkles. I love weddings that are unapologetically, technicolor-level themselves. I believe people are fundamentally good, family is who shows up for you, and everyone (and I mean every single person) gets to love who they love, build the family they choose, and be celebrated for it in full color, no exceptions, no fine print, no dimming it down for anyone in the room.

So: tell me about your day. The five-day one. The Tuesday one. The one with the dog. The one with the kids. The one with the most rainbow flags you can find. I want all of it — preferably with snacks, definitely with glow, and always with love that doesn't apologize for itself.