My Husband, the Groomzilla | Vogue

Initially, David didn’t even want a wedding. He hates being the center of attention and doesn’t like anything that feels too artificial or saccharine, so as a compromise we decided to have a fun party. There were two conditions: We wouldn’t do any traditional bride and groom events – other than an intimate, simple ceremony beforehand – and I would oversee the planning.

By four months later, my mom and I had decided on a date and location (December 7th, The Boom Boom Room), with the help of our incomparable planner, Serena Merriman. I knew I wanted Hunter Abrams to shoot the wedding, and while I didn’t have a dress yet, I wasn’t worried. I was getting ready to go retro and had a series of dates lined up. Everything was going smoothly—until I started to notice a shift in David. Where once he was happy to let it go, now he’s asking to collaborate on my wedding Pinterest board. Where there once was stubble, there is now a beard.

The truth is, I really should have seen it coming. You see, David is a man who knows what he likes and prefers finer things. He was a self-taught bon vivant with a penchant for esoteric cuisine and gilded luxury: Bombardinos from San Casciano, fil d’ecosse socks, that sort of thing. So is there any chance of a decadent wedding? I knew the upper-crust European in him would be irresistible once I invited his input.

What am I? No I knew I would awaken the threat of authority that had always been dormant within him.

Groom, David. “I can tell you I was surprised when my bouquet and white fur stole went missing, only “I asked my friend to take them for me, but I was lying,” Hodding wrote.

Photo: Hunter Abrams

When he officially got married, it was exactly three and a half months before the wedding.

It started with the caterer. David asked to join us on the call with Peter Callaghan and his team, who performed a series of fun, bite-sized riffs on classic dishes that were designed for pass-throughs and stops as we opted not to sit down for a sit-down dinner. Few people could attract David. Before the call ended, he went to work.

Over the next two weeks, David spent nearly every waking moment in front of his computer, digging into the high-end restaurant scene. Research lavish medieval supper clubs; and immerse yourself in the legendary cuisine of French culinary master Auguste Escoffier.

Late at night, when his fingers started to go numb and his vision started to blur, he would slip into bed and turn on old episodes. french chefSnooze to the soaring, transatlantic lilt of Orange Duck, produced by Julia Childs.