Rachael + Mark by Keryn Sweeney

Our aim was an effortless kind of ’90s simplicity: elegant, unfussy, and not overly styled.

Tell us a little about yourselves, what you do, what you love…

I’m a research scientist working in healthcare, although my previous life as a prosthetist is still a pretty fun party trick when it comes up. Mark is a software engineer. But honestly, most of our lives happen outside of work.

We love being outside and are happiest somewhere with water, mountains, and no real plan. We kayak, paddleboard, hike, camp, take road trips, and have an unreasonable affection for ferries and a cooler full of snacks. We love to travel, too. We’ve eaten our way through Europe, spent plenty of time underwater in the South Pacific, and somehow always end up back in the Pacific Northwest feeling like it’s the best place on earth.

We’re equally happy at home, usually in the kitchen. Years ago, I signed us up for a sourdough class, and Mark has been on a baking tear ever since. His sourdough ambitions now extend to holiday-themed loaves: a turkey for Thanksgiving, followed by a Christmas tree that admittedly came out looking a little more Jackson Pollock than festive. He has many more years to perfect it.

We cook together most nights, often over a glass of wine, an epic playlist, and a lot of laughing. Mark is sous chef, I’m chef, and our only recurring kitchen disagreement is how to prepare garlic. He slices; I smash. We each maintain that our method tastes better, and neither of us appears willing to concede.

How/where/when did you meet – and what were your first impressions?

We met on a dating app in Seattle in 2016. I’m a born and raised Seattleite; Mark had relocated to Seattle from Australia for a multi-year work assignment. A couple of weeks of messaging and increasingly good banter eventually turned into plans for our first date. It nearly didn’t happen. Mark warned me he’d be 45 minutes late, then arrived another 45 minutes after that. His excuse? He’d been golfing. I waited anyway. At the end of dinner, the bill sat untouched between us for an absurd amount of time, neither of us apparently willing to make the first move, until I finally suggested we split it. On paper, it was not an especially promising start. In person, he was impossible not to like.

Mark was handsome, easy-going, and effortlessly sociable, with a warmth that made him easy to talk to. He remembers me as witty, funny, and someone who didn’t take herself too seriously.

We closed down the restaurant laughing, grabbed dessert afterwards, and had an incredible first kiss. Work took me across the country not long after, but rather than let distance call it quits, Mark flew out to see me almost every month. After a year of that particular brand of stubborn long-distance, I moved back to Seattle. We’ve been together ever since. Nearly a decade later, we are now both perpetually late.

What styling and visual elements worked best for you? (could be things, the florals, particular hire products or your marquee, etc., something the stylist created or simply just the scenic beauty of your location or the existing design of your venue).

We wanted our elopement to feel intimate and unmistakably like a wedding, just pared back to the elements we genuinely cared about. Our aim was an effortless kind of ’90s simplicity: elegant, unfussy, and not overly styled. We chose the South Coast for its landscape and views, then searched for a venue that could hold its own within them. Once we found the right house, we knew it needed very little from us. Bringing in elaborate installations or decoration would have felt out of place against the architecture and coastline. The exception was our dinner table, where we wanted a little more romance.

Our own styling had to work with the setting, too. Knowing how windy the headlands could be, I chose a slicked-back bun and brought a shorter veil in case my cathedral-length one became unmanageable. Thankfully, I never needed the backup, though the wind did put an end to my plans to wear the blusher over my face.

I loved how little we had to manufacture. The house, the cliffs, the ocean, and the changing light did most of the work for us. By evening, the moonrise even made its way into some of our photographs, an unplanned bit of magic.

What did you enjoy most about the planning process, and do you have any tips for couples starting their wedding planning journey?

Neither of us ever pictured ourselves having a traditional wedding. Mark described the idea of having one as “mental agony,” which is the most succinct explanation for why we eloped. We never questioned our choice, but I felt enormous pressure to get the big things right. With so little competing for attention, every choice had to carry more weight. We passed over an otherwise lovely venue because I couldn’t get past its red dining chairs, which tells you where my head was at.

Once our biggest priorities were settled, planning became much easier. We loved having the freedom to be selective about where we put our attention. There was no guest experience to design or anyone else’s expectations to accommodate. I could spend months hunting down the perfect vintage dress or estate jewellery while skipping entire categories of wedding planning that simply were not for us. I was also finishing my doctoral degree, so wedding planning became a welcome creative escape. Was some of my enthusiasm for planning procrastination from statistical analyses? Absolutely. But tracking down a 1960s deadstock garter was considerably more fun than interpreting another model output.

My advice is to figure out your priorities early and let them guide the decisions that follow. A wedding doesn’t have to include certain things or look a particular way simply because tradition says it should.

Tell us about your vendors. Were there any standout suppliers you would like to make special mention of?

Giving our vendors creative freedom became something of a theme. I shared our vision with Keryn, our photographer, and then got out of her way entirely. The story of our wedding day was hers to tell, and she landed it beautifully.

Our florist also styled our dinner table, saving us from an entire category of decisions we had no desire to make. We knew we wanted a little more zhuzh than two place settings and a candle, but otherwise happily handed over the creative reins. She knew where to take it.

Going into the day without a hair or makeup trial made me nervous, but both artists absolutely nailed it. My hairstylist deserves particular credit for keeping my veil perfectly secure through near gale-force winds. Our celebrant was wonderfully calming. When she saw me getting anxious in a muddy paddock with the wind ripping through, she reminded me that it was our day and we could change the plan at any point. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

Then there was chef Robbie, our unsung MVP. He arrived to discover a falcon had knocked itself out on a window inside the house. He calmly picked up the falcon and released it outside, only to watch it fly directly over us mid-ceremony. He handled the chaos like a seasoned professional. His food was brilliant, too.

Planning a wedding sight unseen from the other side of the world meant we were largely in our vendors’ hands. We are so grateful we landed in the right ones.

Tell us about your main outfits, what was unique, and is there a story?

I’ve always loved hunting down vintage pieces, so naturally I approached our wedding the same way. I had a specific idea of the gown I wanted: a basque waist, full skirt, clean lines, and something distinctly vintage. Elizabeth James in The Parent Trap was somewhere in the back of my mind, with that understated ’90s elegance she might have designed for herself.

At six feet tall, finding a vintage gown with enough length was no small task. After months of searching, I found a late-1990s strapless ballgown online that matched my measurements and looked promisingly long. I hadn’t tried on a single wedding dress when I decided to take a gamble and buy it. To my absolute shock, it fit beautifully. A bridal atelier in Seattle extensively reworked the bodice while preserving the original silhouette, somehow bringing all of my requests to life. They are saints.

I wore ivory pointed-toe slingbacks for the ceremony, then changed into chunky sneakers for the coastal walk. My sneakers make a few appearances in the photos, à la Runaway Bride, though thankfully only sartorially.

My jewellery was vintage or inherited: an estate tennis bracelet from my parents, my great-grandmother’s aquamarine ring, and vintage Givenchy earrings. Mark wore vintage Givenchy cufflinks, a small connection between our looks. We also carried vintage handkerchiefs that I embroidered.

Mark didn’t want a traditional black tuxedo; it felt too stuffy for him. He wanted something slightly unexpected but still formal, and landed on navy. His tuxedo was custom-made by SuitSupply to fit his tall, swimmer’s build. He looked, for the record, incredibly dashing.

Tell us about your wedding and engagement rings.

When we started looking at engagement rings, I knew an antique diamond was right for me. I love the idea of taking something with a life long before mine and giving it another chapter. A Seattle jeweller who specialises in antique stones sourced my engagement diamond: a Victorian-era moval, a rare cut somewhere between a marquise and an oval.

Antique diamonds were cut by hand for a very different world of light, which makes the way mine comes alive in low light feel particularly special. Under a loupe, you can see the hand-cut nature of the stone everywhere: wavy edges, asymmetrical facets, and tiny irregularities. It is a little wonky and completely one of a kind. I chose a classic yellow-gold solitaire setting so nothing would compete with the diamond itself.

Our wedding bands are intentionally simple. Mark chose a brushed platinum band; mine is a wide yellow-gold band with squared edges, a subtle nod to a classic cigar band. I love the contrast of the wider band against the delicate solitaire. It’s clean, unfussy, and a little unexpected.

What were one or two elements that were most important to you both that you were happy to spend a little more on? (food, photography, florals, the venue, your outfits?).

Photography was non-negotiable from the very beginning. I have vivid memories of sitting down as a kid and flipping through my parents’ wedding album, filled with achingly romantic images from their modest 1980s wedding. My mom looked so beautiful, and I treasured that album. There was something about those old film images that stayed with me.

I think I understood, even as a child, that the photographs would outlive almost everything else from the day. With an elopement, they would also become the way we could eventually share our wedding with everyone we love. We weren’t willing to compromise there. We wanted photographs with staying power: timeless and film-forward, balancing documentary storytelling with an editorial eye.

Having a private chef was our other priority, mostly for the luxury of going nowhere. We wanted to open a bottle of wine, have dinner come to us, and let the evening unfold at its own pace. We’re fairly unfussy about food, so the menu was exactly our speed: familiar food done exceptionally well. Robbie even left us a breakfast hamper for the next morning, which meant we could stay tucked away in our newlywed bubble a little longer.

Was there a favourite moment (or two) that you will treasure always?

We put a lot of thought into making the ceremony our own, even writing the wording for our ring exchange together. Our vows were, without question, our favourite part. They were long, heartfelt, and very us: sincere one minute, followed by terrible puns and jokes at each other’s expense the next. There were tears, plenty of laughs, and very little left unsaid. The only person either of us was speaking to was the person standing opposite us, and we loved the freedom in that.

Later that night, Can’t Help Falling in Love came on. I love Elvis, so it felt a little cosmic. We are genuinely terrible dancers and were very relieved to have the room to ourselves, with no dance lessons on our conscience. A little tipsy and newly married, we danced to Elvis in the kitchen. It was completely unplanned and somehow made the night even better.

What does being married mean to you, and are there any special rituals you have that you would like to share?

After nearly a decade together, getting married wasn’t the beginning of our shared life. We had already spent years building a home and a future together, grounded in trust, partnership, and genuine friendship. For me, marriage affirmed a commitment that already felt firmly established. For Mark, it brought an added sense of permanence and security. I love that marriage can mean something slightly different to each of us. And, in the least romantic but most American development imaginable, marriage also meant access to spousal health insurance. Nothing says romance and lifelong devotion quite like employer-sponsored healthcare.

Our rituals are decidedly ordinary, which is probably why I love them. Mark makes me coffee every morning, his quiet act of care that starts my day. Sunday mornings are for Dutch baby pancakes, also courtesy of Mark, while I steal a bit more sleep. It’s nothing grand, but those small, familiar gestures are some of my favourite parts of the life we’ve built together.