Save the date
27 · XI · MMXXVII
Press & hold the seal
Together with our loved ones
are getting married
“Till death do us part?
Darling, even death couldn’t keep us apart.”
Chapters
Some love stories are written in the stars.
Ours was written in the shadows, lit by a love that refused to fade.
Chapter I
“Among countless passing moments, there was one that changed everything.”
Chapter II
“Love was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to be real, extraordinary, and ours.”
Chapter III
“Two hearts, two stories, and one promise to face every tomorrow together.”
Captured in time
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Save the date
Saturday27 November 2027Ceremony at 15:00
Pop it in your calendar
The calendar reminder pings you a week before, so you’ve got time to find those red sneakers.
Where it happens
Venue
Waterside, with an old chapel and sunsets that do half the decorating for us. There’s plenty of secure parking on site.
Attire
Come dressed for a candlelit evening with the people you love most.
Think midnight tones, rich textures, velvet, lace and dark florals. Elegant, yes, but comfortable enough to dance until the candles burn low. A touch of crimson is always welcome. If you’ve ever wanted an excuse to look like you belong in a gothic novel, this is it.
The one non-negotiable
Everyone attending is, and will be, required to wear fire-truck red sneakers.
Yes, everyone. Yes, really.
RSVP
Your presence would make our story all the more beautiful.
Forever was never long enough.
Two souls. One eternity.
27 · 11 · 2027
From our Book of Love
The world often wonders what happiness means,
Is it painted in gold or in movie-like scenes?
Is it found in the flash of a spectacular show,
Or something much softer, a quiet, deep glow?
For sweet Mr. B, with his rambling art,
He carried a blueprint right there in his heart.
He drew a map of the moments that make him feel seen,
Since starting this journey with Vicqui, this queen.
It isn’t a list of the things she should do,
It’s a deeply raw truth of what makes him feel true.
Happiness is… when a suitor is stressed,
With fire-truck shoes that are ruining his best,
And instead of a sigh or a judging remark,
She matches his shoes and she lights up the dark!
It makes him feel happy because he’s allowed
To be a bit clumsy, imperfect, and loud.
The fear of a failure is simply undone,
When she shows him that being imperfect is fun.
It silences doubts that he’s making mistakes,
And heals up the quietest places he aches.
Happiness is… when she offered to drive,
A softly spoken, “What time shall I pick you up?”
To take on the burden and carry the weight,
And meet him halfway for a magical first date.
And pulling up close like a rebel in blue,
With the speakers just blasting out Blur’s “Song 2”!
It told him his chaos was welcome to stay,
That his wild “woo-hoo” energy wasn’t in the way.
It made him feel happy to sit in that seat,
And know that his weirdness was right up her street.
He didn’t have to carry the logistics alone,
He felt absolutely, completely at home.
Happiness is… when he brings out his tools,
The ones that he built to obey all the rules.
The brakes for his volume, the checks for his mind,
Because he was scared he’d leave people behind.
But happiness is when she tells him to stop,
And asks for his volume right up to the top!
It makes him feel happy, so raw and so deep,
To know there are no hidden secrets to keep.
He doesn’t need filters or masks to put on,
The fear of just being “too much” is now gone.
Happiness is… in the quiet of night,
When the Jozi-town stars are the only soft light.
He reads her a story to help her unwind,
With his arm wrapped around her, their hands intertwined.
She softly drifts off as he reads her the lore,
And falls fast asleep in his arms, safe and sure.
It makes him feel happy because it is trust,
In a world that is heavy with armour and rust.
For a guy who revives broken logic and boards,
To be the safe haven her spirit rewards…
It settles his soul and it anchors his chest,
To know that his arms are the place she can rest.
This is the blueprint of what it all means,
Behind the bright colours and digital screens.
Happiness isn’t the things you can buy,
It’s the beautiful truth in a trusting closed eye.
It’s matching the red, it’s the song in the car,
It’s loving the rambler exactly as they are.
It’s being accepted, entirely whole,
A deep, honest happiness, straight to the soul.
The Moral
When building a blueprint of what makes you smile,
It isn’t the flash or the glorious style.
It’s the fire-truck shoes and a wild nineties song,
And finding the arms where you finally belong.
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