There are so many beautiful ways to get married. Some weddings are grand and generous, filled with music, dancing, family, and friends from every chapter of life. Others are smaller, quieter, and built around a table. I don’t think one is more meaningful than the other. What matters, perhaps, is choosing the form of celebration that feels true to the people at the center of it.
A wedding, like a life, should be allowed to have its own proportions. It does not have to resemble anyone else’s dream. It does not have to follow every tradition, every expectation, or every beautiful idea one has seen elsewhere. It does not have to become a whole season of events, unless that is what genuinely brings you joy. It can be expansive and festive, if that is what feels right. It can also be simple, intimate, and deeply joyful in a quieter way.
As we began thinking about our own wedding, I realized I was naturally drawn to something smaller. More intimate. Closer, perhaps, to the feeling of a family dinner than to a grand event. Our wedding will take place in Amsterdam, where we live, with fewer than twenty people in total. The exact place will remain a surprise for our guests. There will be a civil ceremony in the afternoon, followed by a four-course dinner in the evening. No DJ, no large party, no formal dress code, no elaborate program. Just a joyful, convivial celebration around a beautiful table, and perhaps, if the evening feels like continuing, a bistro afterward for anyone who wishes to stay a little longer.
To me, this feels very French in spirit. Not because it follows a particular rule, or because there is only one French way to celebrate. But because there is something I have always loved in the idea of doing things simply, carefully, and without too much fuss. A place with charm and character. White tablecloths. A few flowers. Good food. People we love. A sense of occasion, but nothing ostentatious. Something pretty, without being decorated into another version of itself. Something joyful, without needing to be choreographed. Something special, but still very much like us.
And perhaps this is what planning a wedding has reminded me: the most beautiful celebration is not the one that follows a particular idea of what a wedding should be. It is the one where you can breathe. The one that leaves room for the moment itself.
If you have always dreamed of a grand wedding, with dancing, many guests, and a whole weekend of celebration, I think that is wonderful. There is something beautiful about gathering everyone you love in one place. But if you have quietly felt that you might want something smaller, a civil ceremony, a dinner, a handful of people, a day that feels intimate, personal, and quietly joyful, I hope you know that this can be beautiful too.
And, of course, as I began thinking about the day itself, I also began looking for what I might wear. I have never been especially drawn to the idea of a traditional wedding dress for myself. Nothing too long, too voluminous, or too bridal. I have been looking instead for something white or ivory that feels like me, only slightly more special. A dress, perhaps. Or a simple set. Something that belongs to the day without overwhelming it. Something I could imagine wearing not only for a ceremony, but also for a dinner, a summer evening, or a future anniversary.
And as I searched, saved, ordered, returned, compared fabrics, and looked through far too many white dresses, I realized that many of these pieces could be useful beyond my own wedding. So this edit is partly inspired by my own wedding search, but I hope it is useful beyond that. Whether you are getting married, attending a white party, planning a summer celebration, or simply looking for something luminous to wear on a beautiful evening, these are the pieces and ideas that caught my eye along the way.
A Few Notes on Choosing a Civil Wedding Dress
If you are looking for a civil wedding dress, or for a non-traditional bridal dress, one thing I have learned over the past few months is that price is not always a guarantee of quality, beauty, or fit. Only you know how much you paid for your dress.
What matters is not the price tag, but the way the fabric moves, the way the dress falls, and the way you feel when you put it on. I recently ordered a much more expensive dress that, in person, did not feel as luxurious as I had hoped. The fabric was not as beautiful as I expected, and the dress was far more transparent than it appeared online. Later, I found another dress at a fraction of the price that felt much more elegant and better made.
So my advice would be: look widely, and do not assume that the most expensive option is necessarily the most beautiful one. It can also be worth looking at places like The Outnet, where previous-season white or bridal pieces are often reduced. Some of the most beautiful finds are not necessarily from current bridal collections, but from past seasons, evening wear, or simple white dresses that were never designed exclusively as wedding dresses.
If you can, consider ordering a few options. Not to overcomplicate the decision, but to give yourself freedom. You may want to choose depending on the weather, the mood of the day, or simply the version of yourself you feel closest to when the moment arrives. You might also decide to change later in the day, especially if your wedding continues from a ceremony into dinner or an evening out.
And do not underestimate tailoring. Sometimes the best dress is not the one that fits perfectly straight from the box, but the one that can be made yours. If needed, take your usual size, or even a size up, and have it altered so it falls exactly as it should. A simple dress that fits beautifully will always look more elegant than an expensive dress that almost works.
If the dress itself is very simple, the accessories can carry the mood. White tights with a short dress. Satin shoes. Crystal or pearl earrings. A small headband with a veil. A white bow in the hair. A pillbox hat. Embroidered tulle gloves. These details can make even the simplest silhouette feel intentional, personal, and quietly special.
But perhaps the most important thing is this: whatever dress you choose, you will be elegant if you feel like yourself. The point is not to find the perfect dress in theory. It is to feel present, comfortable, beautiful, and free enough to enjoy the day. Because in the end, the most important thing is not whether the dress was expensive, traditional, unusual, simple, or dramatic. The most important thing is that you have a wonderful time.
Want to wear romantic whites beyond the occasion?
This week’s Edit Privé continues the idea of summer whites in a more everyday direction: how to wear lace, embroidery, crochet, and ivory cotton without looking bridal, beachy, or overdone.
Inside: a 9-piece capsule, 5 real-life looks, and the French styling logic that gives romance just enough structure.
This article is unsponsored. If you choose to buy something through my links, I may earn a small commission, always at no extra cost to you. I only share products I genuinely love and use myself. Merci.
The Summer Whites Edit

Zara blazer with feather cuffs

Reformation Katelyn silk dress

Jennifer Behr crystal and pearl-like earrings


Leon Lin strapless twill mini dress


Mango long lingerie-style dress

Sandro faux pearl-embellished tweed mini dress

Self-Portrait appliquéd embellished crepe mini dress


Selft-Portrait crepe 3D flower mini dress


Zara low-rise straight leg pants


Dôen corded lace-trimmed silk-satin midi dress

Jennifer Behr satin, chiffon and crystal headband


Zara mesh embellished slingback heels

Completedworks pearl and crystal earrings

Manolo Blahnik Lurum 45 crystal-embellished mules

Jennifer Behr faux pearl and satin bow hair clip

Magda Butrym embellished satin pumps





