De fusion bruiloft in Hangar Amsterdam van Michael en Marianne
Colour. If I’d had to pick one single word to encompass my feelings on the wedding of Marianne and Michael, it would be that. It was simply omnipresent. In skins, in the words used during the many speeches (first time I heard the nickname Strawpedo for being a champion in downing drinks though a straw, for instance) , the clothing and certainly the music.
In this story, a (quoting here) ‘nice, pretty, tall, blond, well figured girl from Vught’ decided to go to a party. A house party in London, that is, with techno music soaring out of the speakers. How romantic. There she bumped into, quoting again, ‘a handsome guy with a charismatic nose, big intellect, great job and a good sense of humor’. That night they had their first kiss, and this year they took the jump together.
It resulted in a perfect wedding at Hangar in Amsterdam under glorious sunshine. With cold drinks, warm feelings and a humdinger of a party with traditional Indian dhol drummer music. My ears are still recovering as a reminder of a day that was just a privilege to witness.