The Bride Wore LK Design for Her Vegas Nuptials

"Our waitress was very clearly pilled out of her mind, our food took forever to arrive, it was perfect."

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I met my husband the old-fashioned way: online. He was living in Richmond, and I was, at the time, temporarily decamped about an hour away in the mountains of Charlottesville.

We matched, hit it off, and he began the intensive process of sweeping me off my feet. He drove four-hour round-trips to take me on dates in the city, ate dinner with me every Sunday (which inspired our first dance song: Etta James’ “Sunday Kind of Love”), and flooded my townhome with bouquets — my maid of honor, Willow, described it in her speech as “...looking like a straight up funeral home. Every surface was covered with flowers, all addressed to her.” 

Three months later, I moved to Richmond. Then, three years later, he popped the question. We were staying up at the Lazy Bear Lodge in Luray, Virginia — a cozy log cabin deep in the mountains — and he led me outside under the guise of “taking a video of the fire he built”. I cried, he cried, and then I pulled out the extensive wedding planning spreadsheet I had been working on for the past couple of months.

Of course, I knew he was going to propose. Sure, he didn’t outright tell me — but that isn’t the type of thing that usually comes as a surprise (especially when he texts you asking for the link to the ring you like). I also knew that, because Mitchell is a twin and because his twin had just gotten married in a big, traditional ceremony, I had the clearance to get what I wanted: a smaller, more intimate, and unconventional ceremony.

Thus began our Vegas plans. 

We knew we couldn’t have everyone we wanted to celebrate with us in Vegas. So we started with a small “wedding party” in Richmond at a historic venue called Old City Bar. It was gorgeous: all wood interior; low, warm lighting; fabulous ostrich feather centerpieces made by my grandmother-in-law, Gayle. We also had a giant paper moon photo booth that was fully designed and fabricated by my father-in-law, Billy, who is a very talented working artist. It was one of the most beautiful and romantic nights of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever cried harder.

The night before, my lovely family hosted a glamorous welcome dinner at Fogo de Chão. My mom and Nonie (maternal grandmother) are two of the most elegant, design-focused people in the world, so you know they delivered. We had a gorgeously decorated private room, the tables laden with multiple seafood towers and endless delicious meats — and, to top it all off, at the end of the night, our friends surprised us with a brand new Ooni pizza oven in the parking lot. What more could you want?

Now, onto the main event (which actually occurred about five months after the “wedding party”).

VEGAS: DAY ONE

We took an early morning direct flight (thank you, Breeze!) and landed a little before noon. I had downloaded 16 episodes of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills to watch on the flight and heard Camille Grammer say, “Well! NOW we’ve said it!” just as we hit rough turbulence. When I tell you chills up my spine, I mean it.

We stayed at the Conrad in Resorts World, which, from the looks of it, is an accommodation geared towards Fear of God hypebeasts and cool girlfriends. Resorts World is the newest hotel on the Strip, and you can definitely tell: funky, sorta-sexual modern art sits right beside giant F1 racecars advertising the Grand Prix happening just a couple of days after our wedding. Jumping nightclub beats bounced through the palatial lobby. I’ve never felt more podunk in my life. But jokes aside, the lovely people at the Conrad treated us very well, and our giant suite was both glamorous and perfectly clean. Thanks guys!

They also provided the comfiest hotel robes I have ever slipped onto my body. If you ever stay at the Conrad in Resorts World, don’t make the same mistake as I — buy the robe from the hotel. It is nearly impossible to find online. After much research, I discovered that they order the robes from a brand called Sobel Westex. However, the type of robe (a plush interior with a smooth outer shell) is not one that they sell to the general public, only to hotels. Believe me, I tried everything. I even found the distributor’s direct email address and sent him a message. No dice. 

Later that night, we went to Fremont Street and saw old Vegas: the Golden Nugget, Heart Attack Grill’s “Over 350 eat for free” scale, exhausted girls wearing showgirl feathers, and even that giant praying mantis that spits fire and sings AI Johnny Cash Barbie songs. My parents, ever the party animals, stayed out late into the night. I, on the other hand, headed back to the room to take the most relaxing, luxuriating bath ever in the Conrad's giant tub. Maybe one more episode of Real Housewives before bed…

DAY TWO

Early that morning, Mitchell and I picked up our marriage license. On the way there, we heard the “Vegas is like a bunch of islands” speech for the first time from our Uber driver —  a safety warning that we would hear many more times before our vacation was over. Apparently, Uber drivers really want you to know it’s unsafe to walk from place to place in Vegas, guys! I personally never had any trouble. I felt it was no different than any other big city; just be aware of your surroundings.

We picked up our marriage license without incident — along with some little “Just Married in Vegas!” stickers — and headed back to the room, eyes swimming with the love we share. Then, that afternoon, the Bachelorette Party began.

Now, I don’t drink, and I don’t really party, so the traditional “club and male strippers” bachelorette experience just wasn’t going to be in the cards for me. I decided instead to splash some cash around for me and Willow to have the full Gwyneth Paltrow-esque relaxation experience at Awana Spa.

Reader, if you take one thing away from this wedding diary, let it be this: book yourself a treatment at Awana. My god. It legitimately feels like you enter into another world: a giant stone room filled with multiple pools at different temperatures; the most comfortable heated loungers you’ve ever sat on; sauna; steam room; and eucalyptus room (which I actually didn’t love, but it was cool!) all attached to this incredibly tricked out locker room outfitted with hair and beauty products, hot tools, and Byredo bath soaps — you’re never going to want to leave. I sure didn’t!

The lovely ladies working the front desk at Awana kindly upgraded our services to include a 60-minute full-body massage. Do I even need to say it? Obviously incredible. There’s a reason why Vegas remains a premier destination for luxury. After the service, Willow and I spent five hours lounging around the different rooms, munching on the elegant snacks provided, and taking multiple showers.

Then it was time for the main event of the day: Vanderpump à Paris.

Former Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Lisa Vanderpump owns multiple restaurants in Vegas — most notably, in my opinion, her restaurant and bar in the Paris hotel. I dragged my entire family over there, most of whom had never even heard of Lisa Vanderpump — let alone Giggy, whose portrait we were sitting right beside (R.I.P.). 

What can I say about Vanderpump a Paris? Glamorous, Elegant, Over-the-top…. expensive. Our waitress was very clearly pilled out of her mind, our food took forever to arrive, it was perfect.

DAY THREE: WEDDING DAY!

You hear all the time about how frantic your wedding day is going to be — how hurried and rushed and stressful the whole affair is. I didn’t experience that.

I felt incredibly peaceful the whole day, secure in my choice to marry Mitchell. I never had any doubts. Willow and I slowly spent the afternoon getting ready together in the suite. Afterward, Mitchell’s Grandpa, Jim, took photos of everyone in their Sunday best, and we headed to the chapel.

THE LOOK

The dress was designed by Lilya Korenman of Couture by LK Design. It was inspired by the gown Ginger Rogers wore in It Had to Be You. This was, bar none, the best custom garment experience I have ever had. Lilya is an incredibly talented and very experienced designer. I would highly recommend reaching out to her atelier for your next event.

Florals were courtesy of Michael’s Craft Store (lol!). A week or so before we flew out to Vegas, I dragged Mitchell to Michael’s and made him stand there as I agonized over which fake flowers to stuff in my suitcase. I knew I wanted red (it's my favorite color), and I was very inspired by the scale of the bouquet Chloë Sevigny carried during her nuptials to Siniša Mačković — so I knew I wanted very long stems and a big ribbon. I think we pulled it together in the end.

I wore matching shoes with my mother — little silver rhinestone peep-toe mules that we unfortunately did not get any photos of (no free feet!). It was an incredibly sentimental moment for the two of us.

The ceremony was an intimate affair at Little Church of the West. My father and I walked down the same aisle that saw the likes of Zsa Zsa Gabor, Judy Garland, and Angelina Jolie. The pews were filled with our closest family members, my best friend, and his twin brother at our sides. There was palpable love in the room. Candlelight glittered in everyone’s tearful eyes. It was the exact kind of moment you dream of.

After the ceremony, my Nonie booked us a private room at a restaurant called Bootleggers — the perfect little, old-school Italian restaurant to suit my “Stars of the Silver Screen” theme. We broke bread, we shared speeches, we laughed, we cried, we ate cannolis, and then we went home.

DAY FOUR

For our honeymoon, Mitchell rented a car and we drove out to Red Rock Canyon. We stayed at a very swanky hotel by the same name. If Resorts World is for Fear of God hypebeasts and cool girlfriends, Red Rocks is for mega-rich silver foxes and inappropriately young female companions. I felt like a glamorous high-roller walking under the massive crystal chandelier in their red velvet lobby.

That afternoon, Mitchell treated us to another spa day. I’ll say this: Vegas knows how to do a spa. It’s an all-day, transformative experience, the likes of which I had never even known existed. I will try fruitlessly for the rest of my days to replicate it at home.

Gorgeous hotel and spa aside, my biggest recommendation for those traveling to the Red Rock Resort and Casino in Las Vegas would be T-Bones Steakhouse. God damn, is it good! I had the poke; Mitchell had the Wagyu steak. The hostess sat us in front of this giant wall of fire, where we just giggled and held hands the entire night. Can’t recommend it enough!

DAY FIVE

Here’s where things get crazy…

My lovely and sweet husband booked us a self-guided tour of Red Rock Canyon. If you’ve never been, you gotta go. It is truly breathtaking out there. It feels like you’re on the surface of Mars. 

We took some photos together on the cliff face and then decided to go on one of the hiking trails through the canyon. There was a “children’s hike” marked right ahead of us, so we figured: Hey, easy enough, and went down it.

We walked for about twenty minutes, reached the end, and as we were about to turn around… SNAP! I slipped off a rock and landed on my ankle at a 90° angle.

It was such a surprising sensation — sharp pain immediately followed by the chilling humiliation that I might need help getting back to the car…. from the children’s hike…

Through the sheer power of pride alone, I hobbled back to the car, where we took the scenic route back to the hotel. Mitchell called downstairs for an ice bucket — we’re still waiting on it to this day.

DAY SIX

I woke up at 1 AM crying, my ankle as big as a baseball bat. Mitchell, taking the vows of “in sickness and in health” incredibly seriously, rushed to the closest CVS to buy me some crutches and painkillers.

He then, kudos to him, packed up all SIX of our bags and lugged them single-handedly out of the hotel and to the car, then to the airport shuttle, then through the airport, then from baggage claim to the Uber, then home. All while I slowly limped along behind him. Thanks, baby!

It was just as nice as I hoped and dreamed it would be. 🌀

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Kaitlin Owens is the Archival Editor of HALOSCOPE and the Editor in Chief of DILETTANTE. For a closer look at her portfolio, please visit her site here.