So I would like my wedding day to be low-key. And maybe I would

In the words of Jessica Barden—“So I would like my wedding day to be low-key. And maybe I would not wear a wedding dress but something chic and simple, like vintage Chanel.”—there is a quiet defiance of spectacle, a yearning for truth over display. The wedding, often laden with ritual and grandeur, she would strip to its essence: not a theater for others’ eyes, but a day of sincerity, clothed in simplicity and grace. Her desire speaks to an ancient truth—that beauty lies not in ornament alone, but in authenticity.

The ancients themselves revered such simplicity. Socrates, when urged to wear fine garments, replied that a man is not made better by silk. The Spartans, too, valued plainness in their feasts and ceremonies, believing that true dignity required no gilding. In the same spirit, Barden’s choice of a low-key wedding rejects the fever of spectacle, preferring something humble yet refined, where love is the center, not decoration.

Her mention of vintage Chanel carries its own symbolism. Chanel, though modern, embodies timeless elegance—forms that endure because they are rooted in restraint and proportion. This recalls the wisdom of the Greeks, who sought beauty in balance, in the harmony of parts, not in excess. Thus, her preference is not a rejection of beauty, but a call to a higher form of it: beauty that serves love rather than eclipsing it.

History offers examples of such wisdom. When Marcus Aurelius wed Faustina, though emperor of Rome, the ceremony was not drenched in pomp, for he was a man who prized virtue over extravagance. His union endured as one of loyalty and devotion, not because of the splendor of the day, but because of the depth of the bond. So too, Barden reminds us that the measure of a wedding is not the gown, nor the crowd, but the authenticity of the love it celebrates.

Thus, let us learn: in a world intoxicated with grandeur, there is great strength in simplicity. To choose a low-key path is not to lessen the moment, but to deepen it. The ring, the vow, the love—these are the eternal ornaments, greater than jewels, more radiant than gowns. And in this lesson, Barden’s words shine: that the truest beauty of a wedding lies not in how much is displayed, but in how faithfully it reflects the heart.