“How are you going to plan a destination wedding for 150 people in four months?” a friend asked. “You’re not hiring a wedding planner? How are you going to manage it all?” said another. “No wedding designer? How are you going to ensure that everything looks cohesive?” a concerned colleague exclaimed.
A little ingenuity. Decisiveness. A healthy amount of delusion. A lot of grit. Oh, and ChatGPT. That’s how.
After I got engaged last November, I spent months considering the increasingly common quandary for brides in their late 30s—whether to forgo a traditional wedding and get started on family and “life,” or to live out my Pinterest and Vogue Weddings-fueled dreams with our nearest and dearest, making memories as timeless as my inevitable meticulously sourced vintage wardrobe. Eloping or a micro wedding was simply not an option for us, as our close circle of friends and family is positively Italian-sized. And as someone who works in the wedding industry, as head of social and brand partnerships at Minted, the reality of anything decidedly low-key or anti-bride was a non-starter and counter to my maximalist tendencies.
My professional wedding experience, in part helping celebrity and content creator brides hone their vibe and bring it to life through stationery, has led me to consider my own wedding far longer than I’ve been engaged. Yet, when it came time to consider my big day under a self-imposed four-month time crunch, I needed support while also challenging myself—in a similar manner to my scholastic habit of cramming for an exam the night before, yet still acing the test.
I considered bringing on one of the ingenious planners I’ve befriended over the years via my work at Minted, but as a person who majored in college in event management and has produced plenty of large-scale events over my career, I have always wanted the challenge and opportunity to see if I could make it happen myself. (I am an Aries eldest daughter, after all).
Enter my mAId of honor, creative brainstorming partner, fashion historian, meteorologist, travel agent and personal assistant: ChatGPT.
While some brides have started using the tool to figure out ways of stretching their budgets or negotiate contracts, I found my AI partner-in-planning best suited to hone my creative vision and drill into the details with the precision and speed necessary to pull off this feat (and fête) in just four months.
First things first, where to have our November wedding? My fiancé and I are both of Italian descent and had long dreamed of a Tuscan or Sicilian 17th-century locale to begin our forever, so we began our hopeful search there (remember, I only have four months to make this happen). Another option, especially as New Yorkers, was to recreate my fiancé’s parents’ wedding day with a ceremony at the iconic St. Patrick’s Cathedral and reception at the historic Explorer’s Club. We quickly realized a European jaunt would be too arduous a trip for a few key family members, and despite earnest prayers to the man upstairs (and a few Hail Marys to our most devout parishioner friends), St. Pat’s was booked until January.
I queried ChatGPT back and forth as I would converse with a friend. I first asked for destinations that are easily accessible for senior citizens from the East Coast, but that would still allow our guests to feel transported to a wedding paradise of our creation. The resounding answer? Bermuda. Had we ever been to Bermuda or even considered a Bermudian vacation? No. Were we intrigued? Certainly.
As with any good creative partner, ChatGPT will get to know you through your conversations (in my case, it knew my preference for a Slim Aarons and Truman Capote’s Swans-inspired vibe). The first venue it recommended, Cambridge Beaches, was exactly what I was looking for. Built in 1923, Cambridge Beaches, a cottage-based historic hotel on a private 23-acre peninsula, with structures and architectural details dating back to the 17th century, frequented by royals and the likes of Henry Ford, is a discreet, history-filled enclave. When I discovered it would be a two-hour flight for most guests, I knew the search was over. What I lack in the lifelong ability to plan ahead, I make up for in the immediate certitude of a Fortune 100 CEO.
Once I confirmed our ideal date was available, it was back to chatting. What is the exact percentage risk for a hurricane to hit the island this November? ~0.5%. ~1–2% for a tropical storm. What was the ideal timing to refresh my Botox and get a CO2 laser treatment to look my best? One and two months out. What was the perfume Grace Kelly wore for her wedding to Prince Rainier of Monaco? Creed Fleurissimo. What phase will the moon be on our special day and what is its symbolism in ancient cultures? Waning gibbous; reflection and gratitude (mental note to add a letterpressed illustration of said moon phase to our after party menus).
I uploaded a selfie to find out what “season” I am. (A “warm spring.”) I uploaded my mood board for guest attire and brainstormed how to name and describe our reception dress code. (Island formal.) I researched Italian and Southern American wedding traditions and attempted to debunk the ominous warning my facialist Svetlana at Mario Badescu gave me while applying my glycolic-acid peel to absolutely not wear gold or pearl jewelry as a bride. (Something about tears and crying? I needed to know more.)
Once I had a few more details set and was certain I would not suffer an irreversible curse by wearing pearl earrings during our ceremony, it was time to tell a story through my wardrobe with the help of my AI BFF. I have long envisioned a start-to-finish vintage sartorial story and landed on a British-inspired narrative. Through my queries, I connected the dots and discovered new designers like Caroline Castigliano—the British designer of my seashell-hued vintage wedding gown sourced from Vionette Bridal—and rediscovered old favorites including Matthew Williamson, designer of my second look, a sheer nude celestial vintage ’90s gown with silver chain detailing sourced via Circa Vintage in London. A nod to Matthew extended my storytelling with a 1950s-era Pucci dressing gown and robe as a getting-ready look (he once designed for the Italian fashion house) and a ’90s Temperley London hand-beaded gown would round out the narrative.
From mocking up the letterpress border of my invitations to best communicate my vision to our in-house designer, to determining the exact dimensions and quantity of tablecloths to request from the artisans making our custom block print table linens in India, the tool is as helpful as your inputs and ability to prompt.
As our big day quickly approaches and my query quantity, to-do list, and carbon footprint mounts, I have uncovered just a few pitfalls of my AI-enabled strategy. ChatGPT will deliver your answers—both correct and incorrect—with the absolute same unequivocal resolution. Blindly trusting results without employing critical thinking skills can and will lead you to believe the sun will set at 4:23 p.m. on your wedding day when you well know the sun will set at 5:23 p.m. As with any partner—human or machine—my advice is simple. Use your brain. Outsourcing computation is helpful but as the old adage says, to err is human—and AI has a tendency to err, too.
Despite ChatGPT’s potential pitfalls, I was able to bring my creative bridal visions and delusions to life with this helpful (and free) tool, making little to no concessions on sentimentality, detail, personalization, and thought. If you hone your ability to creatively prompt ChatGPT, you can have your cake and eat it, too. And in my case, my cake will be a cannoli-flavored wedding cake decorated in the style of Lulu DK using edible seashells, as envisioned by ChatGPT and brought to life by our resort’s baker.