Lifestyle
Balenciaga Goes Where Fashion Hasn’t Dared Go Before

PARIS — In a chilly, darkish airplane hangar on the sting of Paris, as experiences broke of greater than 1.5 million refugees fleeing by Europe from Ukraine, Demna, the mononymic designer of Balenciaga who had fled Georgia as a 12-year-old throughout that nation’s civil battle, constructed an infinite snow globe and let free a storm.
Into the wind struggled women and men clutching fake trash luggage seemingly crammed with belongings, slipping in spike-heeled boots, clutching huge black coats that flew out round them, heads down. Just a few have been shivering in boxer shorts, with solely towel-like shawls for defense. Lengthy attire streamed backward. The music pounded; overhead, lights (bombs? lightning?) flashed within the obscured sky.
Exterior the glass an viewers watched, clutching blue and yellow T-shirts the shades and nearly the dimensions of the Ukrainian flag that had been left on each seat, together with a word from the designer (who additionally learn, in Ukrainian, a traditional poem — a prayer of energy for Ukraine — from the author Oleksandr Oles, in the beginning of the present).
The battle had, Demna wrote within the word, “triggered the ache of a previous trauma I’ve carried in me since 1993, when the identical factor occurred in my nation and I grew to become a perpetually refugee. Endlessly, as a result of that’s one thing that stays with you. The worry, the desperation, the conclusion that nobody desires you.”
Thus did a set initially meant as commentary on local weather change — a theme Demna started exploring earlier than the pandemic and which he right here supposed as a meditation on an imaginary future the place snow is relegated to the standing of synthetic fantasy — develop into as a substitute an exceptionally highly effective response to battle.
For the final week and a half of battle, style has been nearly apologetic about its personal existence; about daring to supply a frivolous, pointless product amid a world disaster. There’s been plenty of lip service to the thought of magnificence as a salve; plenty of “All I can do is what I do greatest” type of factor. (Plus donate cash and emergency items, in fact, and shut shops in Russia.) Numerous reminding about all of the those that the business employs.
That’s a superbly legitimate response to the state of affairs. It could actually even be impressed, as at Valentino, which additionally started with a voice-over from the designer Pierpaolo Piccioli, providing a paean to the individuals of Ukraine — “We see you, we really feel you, we love you” — earlier than seguing into a set conceived to spotlight the ability of the person.
It was constructed on a single shade: not black or white, however somewhat a type of signature scorching pink — dubbed Pink PP, about to develop into an official Pantone coloration — that additionally was the tint of the partitions and ground. There was a short part of black, as a type of palate cleanser, however it was the pink that stood out. And supplied an replace to the traditional Valentino crimson.
Pink towering platform footwear below pink tights. Flooring-sweeping pink shirt-dresses that seemed extra like royal robes. Little abbreviated pink sequin attire. Sheer pink blouses. Molded pink minis. Pink tea attire coated in flowers. Pink purses. Pink in every single place you seemed, besides the faces, which stood out, every by itself. The impact was slightly dizzying, however it made the purpose.
After all, merely getting all the way down to the job, as Matthew Williams did at Givenchy, is OK too.
He mixed the streetwear influences first dropped at the model by Riccardo Tisci (layered tees, like a tour by logos previous; nylon hooded anoraks beneath tailor-made jackets; thigh-high leather-based boots) with its clichés (“Breakfast at Tiffany’s” pearls; ruffled amalgamations of tulle and organza) plus his personal affinity for a little bit of {hardware}. The outcome was his most coherent assortment but.
But there’s no purpose, as Demna proved, that designers ought to be afraid of grappling with the powerful stuff. He had nearly, he mentioned in his notes, canceled the Balenciaga present, till “I noticed canceling this present would imply giving in.” So as a substitute, he shook it up. It was a danger.
In spite of everything: very costly leather-based trash luggage veer dangerously near deeply unhealthy style. Although this is similar designer that made very costly variations of the Ikea bag. A part of his schtick is elevating the unseen on a regular basis to deluxe standing, poking enjoyable on the pomposity of the style beast.
Russia-Ukraine Struggle: Key Issues to Know
And the truth that a few of his fashions have been wrapped in Balenciaga-branded packing tape catsuits may appear very very similar to a runway-only social-media-catnip gimmick.
Particularly as a result of Kim Kardashian really modeled a packing tape look within the viewers — an outfit (are you able to even name it that?) she mentioned had taken 4 Balenciaga assistants half an hour to create. Not solely did the tape make sticky, squeaky sounds as she walked, however Ms. Kardashian was, she professed, anxious that when she sat down some sections would possibly rip aside. (It didn’t, a lot to her reduction, although she mentioned she nonetheless was undecided how she would go to the toilet.)
But backstage, after the present, Demna mentioned the tape wasn’t only a joke — it was additionally a nod to the dress-up experiments he’d achieved as a rootless little one. And that they’d be promoting the rolls in shops, so everybody would be capable of D.I.Y. their very own look, in a type of excessive model of make do and mend.
One which made crystal clear that for him, the garments themselves, a minimum of in ready-to-wear, could be the least of the matter. In spite of everything — except for a strapless denim jumpsuit comprised of two pairs of denims (the waist of 1 fashioned a bustier atop the opposite), a costume silk-screened to imitate lace and luggage comprised of melded pairs of trainers — a lot of the stuff as seen by the snow — lengthy jersey attire, hoodies, uneven florals, enveloping greatcoats — seemed just about the identical because it has for a couple of seasons now.
However mixed with the Simpsons present of final season; the experiments with digital actuality; the sooner, immersive, local weather change eventualities (plus the Donda reveals he labored on with Ye); the roiling depiction of refugees below glass confirmed Demna’s place as the best scenographer in style, and its most fearless.
His topic isn’t silhouette, it’s the human situation. On an epic, popular culture scale.

Lifestyle
A Love Worth an Early Retirement and a Cross-Country Move

Dr. Raymond Joseph Parungao and Andrew Chih-Hao Chen were attracted to each other the instant their eyes locked.
It was Feb. 28, 2010, and they were at the gay bar the Abbey in West Hollywood, Calif.
“The music was loud, but it faded away as I stared at Andrew,” Dr. Parungao said.
“I saw Ray, and time just stopped,” Mr. Chen said. “I was like, ‘Who is this?’ I had to find out more.”
The two, who were there with mutual friends, got drinks, headed to a quiet corner and started talking. They parted ways around midnight and made plans for a date three days later, again at the Abbey.
Dr. Parungao, 55, was the first to arrive. “My heart was beating fast as I waited for Andrew,” he said. “I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since we met.”
That evening made it clear that their mutual desire was intense and authentic. They chatted for hours about their families, upbringings and shared love of travel. “We talked about everything and nothing and could have chatted for days,” said Mr. Chen, 37. “By the end of the night, we were talking about vacationing together and even starting a family.”
The following month, they exchanged rings as a symbol of their commitment, and eight months after meeting, Mr. Chen moved into Dr. Parungao’s West Hollywood condominium.
At the time, Mr. Chen was working as a branch manager for a bank in Los Angeles, but had dreams of being a hairstylist. In September 2013 he did some work at New York Fashion Week, “and after that experience, what New York offered me professionally was calling me,” Mr. Chen said. “I decided to move.”
Dr. Parungao was working as a pediatric intensive care doctor at Kaiser Permanente in Los Angeles and his contract made relocating a challenge. The two split amicably, and in October 2013, Mr. Chen left for Manhattan. “I wanted Andrew to be free to follow his passion and didn’t want him to feel the burden of a long-distance relationship,” Dr. Parungao said.
They remained close and continued to chat daily. In June 2016, they rekindled their romance when Dr. Parungao visited Mr. Chen and the two attended the Pride parade. “We were dancing to Kylie Minogue who was performing ‘All the Lovers’ at the concert on the pier, and all I could do was stare at Ray,” Mr. Chen said. “We kissed and knew that there was no being apart.”
They decided to try bicoastal dating, with each taking turns flying to see the other two to three weekends a month. Marriage was in the cards. “We had talked about it early on in our relationship but never discussed how or when,” Dr. Parungao said.
They became engaged in September 2016 while on a trip to Iceland with Mr. Chen’s mother, Patty Chen, to celebrate her 60th birthday.
The trio took an evening bus tour through the countryside near Reykjavik to see the northern lights. When they stopped alongside a field, Dr. Parungao asked Mr. Chen, with Ms. Chen looking on, if he would marry him. “We did a three-way hug and cried underneath the lights,” Mr. Chen said.
[Click here to binge read this week’s featured couples.]
Dr. Parungao, who grew up in Conyers, Ga., has a bachelor’s degree in the history of science from Johns Hopkins University and a master’s degree in public health from George Washington University. He holds a medical degree from Howard University.
Mr. Chen is from Diamond Bar, Calif., and works as a freelance hairstylist at the Stephen Knoll salon in New York. He has a bachelor’s degree in business management from Pepperdine University and studied hairdressing at Santa Monica College. He is now in his final year in a graduate program in environmental science at The New School.
After their engagement, they continued their bicoastal lives, except during Covid, when Mr. Chen was without a job and moved to Los Angeles for two years.
But by 2024, after they returned to their bicoastal relationship, living apart was wearing on both. “I took Kaiser’s early retirement package and moved to New York in February to be with Andrew full time,” Dr. Parungao said.
They now reside in Long Island City, Queens, and are in the process of having a child through a surrogate. “It’s such a sense of relief,” Mr. Chen said. “We can go on spontaneous walks together or grab lunch without everything being preplanned.”
On Feb. 28, 15 years after first meeting, Mr. Chen and Dr. Parungao were married by Yanfang Chen, an officiant at the Manhattan City Clerk’s office, with their parents as witnesses.
After the ceremony, they did a photo shoot at City Hall Park and took a Zumba dance class. That evening, the couple celebrated with 70 family members and friends at the Chinese restaurant Shan in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn.
“We danced, we cried, we cheered, we toasted,” Mr. Chen said.
Lifestyle
'Beautiful, happy, dopamine-injected.' Louis Vuitton and Takashi Murakami's frenzied comeback

In January, I was in a taxi driving through London’s Soho neighborhood when I looked out the window and saw a line of people stretched down an entire city block. It was after dark, but folks were still crowded onto the sidewalk, some huddled together to shield themselves from the cold and mist. Was it for a concert? A show? What was I missing? As my car turned the corner, it became clear: They were all waiting to enter the Louis Vuitton x Takashi Murakami pop-up.
The space occupied two stories, with a cafe on the top. The bottom floor was painted a bright “Brat” green, and the upper floor a sweet Hello Kitty-esque shade of pink. The windows, like the products inside, were covered in the brand’s signature interlocking L and V monogram. I was amazed not only by the scale of the operation but also by the fact that, over two decades since the original collaboration, the reissue, which is twofold and will see the release of a total of around 200 pieces starting this year, was able to attract such frenzied attention.

Louis Vuitton x Murakami Speedy Bandoulière 25 (top) and Coussin PM
When fashion designer Marc Jacobs debuted his Louis Vuitton collection with Murakami, a Japanese artist, in the spring of 2003, he called their mind-meld a “monumental marriage between art and business.” It marked the fact that, by that point, fashion and pop culture had become one, with celebrities on the cover of Vogue magazine instead of models, and paparazzi photos dictating sales.
A similar thing was happening in the art world too. Murakami, who is credited with founding the Superflat movement, which finds inspiration and art historical significance in two-dimensional imagery like Japanese manga and anime, was making a career out of combining what was then considered “highbrow” and “lowbrow.” The piece that got Jacobs’ attention, for example, was a fiberglass cartoon sculpture of a woman called “Hiropon,” whose super-size breasts produced a thick stream of milk that wrapped around her like a lasso. Jacobs, who served as creative director of Louis Vuitton from 1997 to 2013, told reporters at the time that “something snapped” when he saw Murakami’s Hiropon on the cover of a Christie’s catalog, and he reached out for a meeting. Murakami, meanwhile, said he’d never heard of Louis Vuitton before.
Before the Vuitton x Murakami collaboration, cross-pollination of this nature was rare. “I grew up in the art world with a lot of quote-unquote ‘serious artists’ who would certainly look down upon getting involved in a more commercial thing like that,” says Gabriel Held, 39, a New York-based stylist and vintage archivist. “But [Jacobs] got heavy-hitters in the art world to participate.”

Louis Vuitton x Murakami Nice Mini

Louis Vuitton x Murakami Monogram Multicolor LV Outline Headband
In 2001, Vuitton collaborated with pop-punk artist Stephen Sprouse on a run of handbags featuring the brand’s logo in a graffiti-like font, and in 2002, British artist Julie Verhoeven covered bags in colorful graphics. Following Murakami, other big-ticket artists including Richard Prince, Yayoi Kusama, Cindy Sherman and Jeff Koons expressed their Vuitton vision as well. The collaboration boosted Murakami’s profile to new heights, with his pop-y, rainbow aesthetic providing a fresh update to the brown-on-brown monogram from 1896 that the brand was known for, ultimately helping it capture the attention of a younger audience. Fandom on both sides for the limited-edition products created what we now commonly refer to as “hype.”
“I always describe the bags as being like beautiful white jawbreakers with saccharine colors all over them,” says Liana Satenstein, 35, a writer who focuses on the vintage market. The iconic “Monogram Multicolore” that Murakami introduced in 2003 fused the “LV” monogram with small florals, creating a new pattern with 33 colors that popped on an all-white background. “A beautiful, happy, dopamine-injected piece,” in Satenstein’s eyes. He also introduced panda and pink cherry blossom motifs.
In December, when Vuitton announced that it was reissuing the Murakami collaboration with a campaign starring Zendaya, Satenstein covered the news on her Substack, “Neverworns.” She declared that the bags “defined the maximalist ’00s.” Stars of the decade, including Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan and Kim Kardashian, were all photographed carrying one. In 2004, Vogue asked if Jessica Simpson’s choice of a Murakami buckle bag made her “the next Sarah Jessica Parker,” Satenstein pointed out.
“I worked with somebody over the summer who is not really a fashion person but of my age, and one thing on her wish list was a Murakami bag,” says Held. “Even for people who aren’t that invested in fashion, they have a desire for it still. It was a pop-culture moment.”
According to Kelly McSweeney, senior merchandising manager at the RealReal, a vintage marketplace, search interest in the original Louis Vuitton x Murakami collaboration “skyrocketed overnight” when the reissue was released on Jan. 3, with a 463% increase in searches day-over-day. The momentum continued into Jan. 4, climbing another 55% as the buzz around the collaboration intensified. “Reflecting this renewed excitement, resale prices for pieces from the collection have also soared, up 50% year-over-year,” McSweeney adds.


Louis Vuitton x Murakami Monogram Multicolor Chouchous
All of the links to vintage bags that Satenstein shared in her newsletter have since sold. “I should have bought like, five, of them,” she says in retrospect.
With the Y2K revival trend seemingly at its peak, nostalgia for the carefree innocence of the ’00s made this moment ripe for a Murakami relaunch. In fact, it’s a wonder Vuitton didn’t do it sooner. Some collectors will seek out the originals they maybe couldn’t afford at full price in high school, and others will line up for a second chance at the new thing. Judging by the crowd waiting outside the pop-up in London, many eager customers are perhaps excitedly discovering the collaboration for the first time, as they were probably in diapers in 2003.
Archival pieces are displayed behind glass across seven Louis Vuitton x Murakami pop-ups worldwide, from Milan to New York to Seoul to Shanghai to Tokyo to Singapore. But of course, the main draw is the new accessories, which will be released in various “chapters” throughout 2025, according to the brand. Chapter 1 celebrated Murakami’s original Multicolore monogram, while Chapter 2, launching this month, will feature 2003’s equally sought-after “Cherry Blossom” pattern on bags, shoes and trunks.
Before it closed on Feb. 9, customers at the London pop-up sipped from Murakami-branded cups at the cafe and ate cakes and pastries off Murakami-branded napkins. The staff wore kimono pajamas and sat on smiling Murakami flower pillows. The scene was simultaneously futuristic and nostalgic. After making a purchase, customers were given a token to put into a special vending machine, which spat out Louis Vuitton x Murakami novelty items, including stickers and trading cards.
When I got out of my taxi and arrived at my hotel, I told the friend I was meeting to pull her original Vuitton x Murakami bag out of her closet immediately. She was thrilled, but also, her curiosity was piqued. Should we get in line too?

Emilia Petrarca is a freelance fashion and culture writer based in Brooklyn.
Lifestyle
Learning a Shared Love Language — One That Includes Signing

Jerald Jerard Creer and Kent Michael Williams chalk up the almost 15-year delay in becoming a couple to a struggle to communicate — one that had nothing to do with Mr. Creer’s Deafness.
Since June 2009, when the two met on a Carnival cruise ship, Mr. Williams had been texting Mr. Creer every few weeks asking for dates. Mr. Creer routinely turned him down. For years, Mr. Williams assumed it was because of his age. “Jerald told me when we met I was too young for him,” Mr. Williams said. (Mr. Creer is seven years older.)
The truth was more complicated.
The friendship that Mr. Williams, now 42, and Mr. Creer, 49, struck up while sailing from Miami to the Bahamas had obstacles from the start. Mr. Williams, an engineer at Cox Communications then living in Baltimore, was traveling alone. Mr. Creer, a social worker, teacher for deaf people and actor then living in Suitland, Md., was vacationing with his boyfriend. Both were part of a group of L.G.B.T.Q. people of color vacationing together.
Mr. Williams remembered seeing Mr. Creer outside the ship’s nightclub a day or two into the trip and feeling drawn to him. “He’s fine,” he recalled thinking.
But he didn’t know Mr. Creer was deaf, which resulted in a stilted conversation. Mr. Creer, who considers American Sign Language his first language, can read lips and make out sounds when wearing his hearing aids. But he struggles to decipher spoken words in dim lighting and loud environments.
“From time to time, I don’t know if my hearing counterparts are adjusting to being in conversation with me,” he said of the stiltedness. That was the case with Mr. Williams. Then, there was the matter of Mr. Williams’s social anxiety. “I’m shy and introverted,” he said. “I’m still trying to figure out why I would have gone up to Jerald in the first place.”
Only two things were clear to both by the time the vacation was in the rearview mirror: One, each found the other attractive. And two, “Kent was very, very shy,” Mr. Creer said.
Mr. Creer grew up in Richmond, Va., with five younger siblings. His parents, Pamela Smith and Jared Creer, discovered his deafness before his first birthday.
By middle school, he was attending events for the deaf community in Rochester, N.Y., where he moved to attend a private school. There, he found his first deaf role models: Rosalie Rockwell, who was a teacher at the school, and her husband, Dale. Both have since died.
“They told me about N.T.I.D.,” he said — the National Technical Institute for the Deaf, a college at Rochester Institute of Technology that trains deaf and hard of hearing students for tech careers, where Mr. Rockwell was a science professor.
At first, Mr. Creer was skeptical: “No one in my family ever went to or finished college.”
But at N.T.I.D., where he enrolled as a scholarship student in 1994, the world opened up. “I met deaf people of all races,” he said. His freshman year, he joined the Ebony Club, a campus group for deaf Black students, but quit because he felt he wasn’t intellectually on their level. Shirley J. Allen, a retired R.I.T. professor and the first Black deaf woman in the United States to earn a doctoral degree, pulled him aside and told him, “Don’t you ever give up.”
Mr. Creer earned two degrees from R.I.T., the first a bachelor’s in his double major, social work and performing arts. Years later, he finished a master’s degree in education. He now works as a drama and theater arts teacher at the Atlanta Area School for the Deaf in Clarkston, Ga.
Mr. Williams grew up in Baltimore with his parents, Darlene Winslow and Kent Williams Sr., two younger half sisters and a cousin he considers a third sister. At 17, he started college at Frostburg State University in Frostburg, Md., to study computer science. But at the time, he was struggling to come to terms with his sexuality. After a semester, he dropped out.
“I had attempted to kill myself,” said Mr. Williams, who was raised Christian. “Growing up in the church, I thought I was going to hell anyway.” (Mr. Creer said that he also attempted suicide during college for similar reasons and survived his depression with the help of his friends from theater, a creative outlet he had been pursuing since early childhood.) Instead of returning home to Baltimore, Mr. Williams moved to Dunnsville, Va., where his godmother lived. To support himself, he worked a series of retail jobs.
In 2003, after three years in Virginia, he returned to Baltimore and got an apartment with a friend and eventually a customer service job at Verizon. By 2009, he was ready to return to college, later earning a bachelor’s degree in information systems from the University of Maryland. In 2010, he moved to Atlanta.
The boyfriend Mr. Creer took the 2009 cruise with broke up with him shortly after they returned home to Maryland. Mr. Creer moved back to Rochester, where he started working as an ASL coach and teacher for deaf people. Heartbreak was nothing new to him, though for years he had tried to avoid it by dating older guys. Men his own age or younger “just wanted to play,” he said. “I didn’t like that.”
Mr. Williams made a promise to himself to keep in touch with Mr. Creer after the cruise, though the odds of an eventual romance, he knew, were against him. He didn’t know ASL, and it was hard to keep up with Mr. Creer’s relationship status. But he remained in the grips of an enormous crush. “I never stopped being attracted to him,” Mr. Williams said. “I made it very clear.”
He did so by texting Mr. Creer at least once a month, letting him know about travel plans and where and when he hoped they might be able to meet in person. Mr. Creer always answered, but usually with an excuse. “He would say, ‘No, I don’t think so, I can’t take the time off,’” Mr. Williams said. “I would say OK and continue to be cordial.” But occasionally they did meet up in cities like Washington, D.C.
Binge more Vows columns here and read all our wedding, relationship and divorce coverage here.
“I’d meet him for a local event or for dinner at some restaurant,” Mr. Williams said. Those visits sometimes turned romantic before they said good night. But Mr. Creer’s pattern of declining his invitations would soon pick up where it left off. “I figured, it is what it is,” Mr. Williams said. “You enjoy what you can get sometimes.”
In December 2023, Mr. Williams made plans to celebrate a friend’s birthday in Manhattan and asked Mr. Creer to meet him there, not realizing that New York is one of Mr. Creer’s favorite cities. In less than a day, Mr. Creer responded, “I’ll be there.”
“I was like, Oh my God, for real?” Mr. Williams said. “I was really happy.” Nervous, too.
At the DoubleTree by Hilton in Times Square, the two stayed up all night playing a conversational card game that Mr. Creer had brought, the couples edition of (The And) card game.
“It was so thought-provoking,” Mr. Creer said. “We answered questions like, What are you hesitating to tell me? What are you afraid of?” Both say they fell in love that night. “We understood each other in ways we hadn’t before,” Mr. Creer added.
That weekend, Mr. Williams finally understood Mr. Creer’s reluctance to accept his scores of invitations through the years. Mr. Creer’s reservations about dating younger men were real. “I was aiming for mature men who understood the struggle of life and who know what it takes to sustain a long-term relationship,” Mr. Creer said.
But there was something else, too. “Kent often goes on trips that I couldn’t afford,” he added. “I was a social worker and was embarrassed that I couldn’t go, either because of my schedule or because of money.”
At the end of the New York birthday celebration, Mr. Williams was ready to carve a path forward as a couple. “‘Are we dating exclusively?’” he asked Mr. Creer. “Jerald said, ‘I think we should. I’m going to make a point of investing in you.’”
Two weeks later, in January 2024, they met in Manhattan a second time. In March, they traveled to London for a friend’s wedding. By then, they were discussing living together in Atlanta. But not marriage. So it was a surprise when Mr. Creer proposed to Mr. Williams at the top of the London Eye Ferris wheel. “It was total disbelief,” Mr. Williams said. His yes brought tears to both.
“I’m deaf in a hearing world, and I’m signing all the time, but Kent doesn’t see me as different from anyone else,” Mr. Creer said. “I love his heart and his compassion and his generosity so much.”
Mr. Williams added, “I fell in love with how genuine he is, the heart that he has. He will do anything in his power to make someone else happy, even at the risk of making himself unhappy.”
In June, Mr. Creer moved into Mr. Williams’s home in Atlanta. On Feb. 28, 115 guests gathered at Kimball Hall in Roswell, Ga., for their wedding, which was officiated by Romell Parks-Weekly, a friend, an L.G.B.T.Q. activist and a pastor at the Sanctuary, a Christian church in St. Louis. Both men were escorted down the aisle by their parents.
The ceremony included two ASL interpreters and a rendition of John Legend’s “All of Me,” both sung and signed for guests. Mr. Creer and Mr. Williams exchanged rings and promised to love each other “today, tomorrow and forever.” Once they were officially married, they jumped a broom decorated with ribbons and rhinestones into the first moments of that forever.
On This Day
When Feb. 28, 2025
Where Kimball Hall, Roswell, Ga.
Bliss and Harmony In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Mr. Creer took to Instagram to express his feelings about Mr. Williams in a series he called “word of the day.” Each day, he taught his followers a new word in ASL, including “forever” and “commitment.” Mr. Williams, who avoids the camera because of his shyness, reluctantly agreed to be part of the “romance” post on Valentine’s Day.
… And Comfort (Food) At a reception after the ceremony, guests helped themselves to a buffet with Southern favorites, including barbecued chicken, beef brisket sliders and mac and cheese. For dessert, after the grooms cut a small wedding cake, red velvet and chocolate cupcakes were passed around.
Bon Voyage The day after the wedding, the couple set sail on their second cruise together to the Caribbean. This time, they shared a cabin.
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