Federica and Davide were clear from the start: no poses, no constraints. They wanted to live their wedding, not pose for it.
And that’s how it went.
A hotel room with its number on the door, laughter, a glass of wine while her hair was being done. Then the church: the little boy with the rings, the hugs, the rice at the door. And a beer drunk on the fly, bouquet still in hand.
Afterwards, the coast: balustrades over the sea, a yellow villa, the bay opening up.
The party was at Villa Zagara, under the olive trees. Long tables, lights in the branches, spritz going around, a red megaphone passed from hand to hand. The cake on the stone steps among the sparks, then everyone dancing.
This is what reportage means to me.
Ask for nothing, and be ready.
