While the honeymoon suite had turned into estrogen central, Stallion, his groomsmen, and our fathers met up in G’s room to do whatever it is that guys do. (What is it that guys do? I’m assuming the goings-on were mostly beer and basketball.)
Fortunately, our photographer was there to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. Or did he encourage them to get into trouble? I’ll never know.
All photos courtesy of Aleksey Photography
I’d marry that.
And then instead of staying cooped up in the hotel room, they decided to head across the street to the beach. I don’t blame them; it was a beautiful day.
Way back when, we’d decided to have everyone wear Black by Vera Wang tuxes from Men’s Wearhouse. We stuck with basic black and white from head to toe—everyone wore black pants, jacket, vest, and tie, and a white shirt—despite our consultant’s repeated requests to put the groomsmen in purple vests or whatever “so that people don’t confuse them for the groom.” While it would have been hilarious for someone to heartily congratulate G or M for landing this prize, it didn’t happen. Maybe next time.
I don’t think they really needed a boutonniere AND a pocket square, but who cares. All in all, they looked pretty sharp. It was a big step up from Stallion’s usual get-up of basketball shorts and a Villanova T-shirt.
G, my dad, Stallion, Stallion’s dad, and M
Papa Filly, Stallion, and Stallion’s dad
G is fun-sized.
And then they started getting a little weird.
Don’t have too much fun, boys—I’m on my way!
Missed one? Catch up on the fun!