With backgrounds in magazine journalism and audio engineering, Sarah Dunn and PJ Frame always had strong opinions and a clear vision for how they wanted their wedding to go. 

“We have a big pot-luck house party to celebrate the solstice every winter, and we based the vibe roughly around that - warm colours, plenty of great food, funky music and relaxed good times with all our favourite people.”

As for the concept of marriage itself, Sarah grew up having had mixed feelings about it. “Before I realised I was interested in women, I had very ambiguous feelings about getting married. But after falling in love with PJ, I realised that marriage could be so much more than we’re raised to expect under a patriarchal society.”

For Sarah, marrying PJ was “a positive statement of intent”, a celebration that their love exists, “it is real and legitimate, we are not ‘friends’ or ‘gal pals’. We’re a married couple who are building a life together.”

Sarah and PJ were together four years before getting engaged in August 2020. If you’re in a lesbian relationship, some people assume that having two women together means a lot of over-the-top gestures and intense romance. While that’s not always true, it sure was for the couple’s proposals.  

“We decided we would like to each experience proposing to somebody and being proposed to. PJ went first - surprising me with an elaborate ruse that started in Auckland and ended in Raglan with a bottle of champagne and a fireside proposal. In response, I flew her to Great Barrier Island and asked her to marry me under the super-bright Dark Sky Sanctuary stars.”

The couple co-designed their engagement and wedding ring sets with Nelson jeweller Benjamin Black. “PJ's is platinum and features a ‘salt and pepper’ diamond which looks like a galaxy; and mine has a green Australian sapphire and six tiny white diamonds from an inherited family ring.” 

Aotearoa was one year into COVID, pre-vaccination era, so a lot of wedding decisions were based around minimising risks to make life easier if their plans had to change. The couple had been so worried about creating ‘The Matakana Cluster’, that the event had its own QR codes, and a lot of the action was kept outside. (Note: no one got COVID). 

Not only did they think practical, they also considered ways to make their ceremony more sustainable. “All the flowers were dried, so they wouldn't need to be replaced if we had to reschedule due to a lockdown. We also decided to grow little native seedlings in pots as we didn't like the 'single-use' aspect of traditional floristry.” Sarah says.

“We were aiming for 30 individual plants, but my parents got a bit excited and grew over 400. They were all planted out last winter and now the native nursery is a seasonal event for my family.”

Their 80-guest wedding ceremony and reception was held at Plume vineyard and restaurant in Matakana, where Sarah has family roots. The couple wanted their wedding to be as beautiful as it was comfortable, reminiscent of outdoor parties on warm late-summer afternoons.

Cooking for friends and family is a huge passion for Sarah and PJ, who regularly host parties as an excuse to experiment with new recipes and elaborate meals. Unsurprisingly, a lot of care went into planning an incredible wedding feast.

“Farida Cooper (Plume manager and co-owner) and her team absolutely delivered on our expectations, and they did a great job of catering to our many vegan friends. Coming from the lower South Island, many of PJ’s family tried snapper for the first time at our wedding (although I’m told some felt their local lamb was better than ours.)”

Guests were served local house-made wine by Plume, the dry sparkling rose called ‘Joy’ was a stand-out, although PJ’s brother was disappointed there wasn’t any Speights.

Audio engineer PJ took the task of music seriously, meticulously planning the pre- and post-ceremony playlists to create the vibe for the day. Hiring a professional sound system meant guests were more likely to fill the dancefloor - which they did, including PJ’s 89-year-old Nana who flew up from Gore, “she was the life of the party.”

PJ was also particular about which song played at each part of the ceremony itself, counting the time it would take her and Sarah to walk down the aisle so she could edit the track appropriately. “We walked down the aisle to Nick Cave’s ‘Into my arms’. It’s a classic, simple song that acknowledges the religious beliefs of PJ and her family while foregrounding the central fact of our love.”

Their good friend and trusted ceremony DJ Alastair knew to hit play on Maggie Rogers’ ‘Love you for a long time’ at the exact moment they kissed. 

After the ceremony, Sarah's Uncle John asked: “Will you play Stagger Lee next?”

For the wedding ensembles, PJ admits she was torn about what to wear. “I’m a masculine-presenting female but not butch - a suit wasn’t a goer for me!” She ended up getting a beautiful silk and linen outfit created by a local tailor, Leemake who colour matched it to Sarah’s gown.

Sarah imported her dress as a sample from the UK ('Cleo' by Claire La Faye) and wore it with big baroque pearl earrings and a cameo ring that her late grandfather bought back from Italy after WWII. “This gown had everything I wanted and nothing I didn’t - heavy four-ply silk crepe de chine with a fabulous train and zero boning. The veil was so much fun to wear.”

Emma Ferguson, a dear friend of the couple who is a former makeup artist, pulled out her palettes again and “made us look just like ourselves, only smoother.” Robyn Munro looked after the hair, creating simple, glossy waves on Sarah and an elaborate up-do for PJ’s sister Abbey. PJ’s go-to barber Sez at Spooky Ceremony (a gender neutral Barbershop in Eden Terrace) ensured she already looked the part for the big day. 

Part of the joy of a lesbian wedding, Sarah explains, is that you’re released from the confines of tradition, instead getting to make it up as you go along. The couple did choose to follow some traditions, though, in their own way.  

At a loss for finding ‘something blue’, Sarah painted one of her blush pink toenails blue, and PJ did the same on her ring fingernail. 

“Not every queer couple gets married with the support of their families, but each of us was blessed to have walked down the aisle on our father’s arm. 

I consciously reclaimed the symbolism of that gesture - for me, it wasn’t about Dad giving me away, but Dad accompanying me on the last stage of a long journey toward my beloved.” 

On a different note, Sarah admits in hindsight she could have done without the first dance. “I have no natural rhythm and trying to maintain a coherent two-step in front of the whole room for the entirety of The Postal Service’s ‘Such Great Heights’ just killed me.”

It turns out PJ edited this track down significantly for Sarah, but “it still felt way too long.”

Any remaining nerves (and sore heads) were soothed the following day at the post-wedding brunch at Sarah’s parents place, which was almost bigger than the actual celebration. Uncles manned the BBQ all morning, coffee flowed freely and they served buttery croissants imported from France - an absolute extravagance that nobody regretted.

The wedding cost the couple a little over $24,000, which they paid for mostly upfront themselves, with a little help from both sides of the family. Sharing some good advice on how to not blow the budget, Sarah and PJ sat down very early on and identified the core elements which were most important to them - food and apparel for Sarah; and music and design for PJ. Then they tried to eliminate as much spend as they could from everything else.

“We didn’t do keepsake gifts for guests and nobody cared. We could have definitely got away without a cake but I wanted to bake one for the sake of the technical challenge. Plume served it late in the evening after the dancing had been going for a while, and everyone devoured it like hyenas.”

Sarah also saved on making most of the floral arrangements herself, with help from PJ’s mum Nicky. “I collected lots of dried bits and pieces for the boutonnieres and table bouquets over the weeks leading up to the wedding. The bunny tails grow wild around Pataua North, where my family’s beach house is, and they reminded me of all the happy summers we’ve had there. Doing all eight of them took me like half an hour with a hot glue gun, and we were quoted $40 each for the little suckers. They turned out fine.”

“I think it's fantastic that having a big messy wedding isn't compulsory anymore, but during these plague years it felt very important to show all our friends and family how much we love them (and each other!). We had the best time ever at ours.” 

Sarah’s message for queer couples: 

“Perhaps this is obvious to everyone else, but when you’re a married queer person, you’re really a long way out of the closet. Extremely out. 

Referring to your wife or husband is a brilliant way to casually and unequivocally out yourself in formal situations if that’s what’s called for (check Past Me explaining for the thousandth time that I mean girlfriend as in partner, not as in same-sex buddy or chum); but it also means there’s many situations where you can’t fly under the radar as easily.

Seriously consider if you’re ready for this level of queer visibility well before discussing wedding plans.”