Emily + Nick: A Hilariously Imperfect Midwest Wedding Day | Kansas City, Missouri

There are wedding days that run according to plan, ticking through a checklist like a polite little machine. Sweet grandmas, finger sandwiches, et cetera.

And then… there are wedding days like Emily + Nick’s. These are the days that feel undeniably human, and, most importantly: completely unforgettable. Picture it! November 22nd: the kind of day that reminds you that imperfect is often the most perfect of all (so long as you’re not a perfectionist… which… if you are, I fear I might not be the photographer for you).

Let me introduce our main characters: Emily Williams and Nick Arnold. Now, we set the scene. They chose to get married in the most them way possible: with heart and humor AND an unwavering trust in the people they love… including me, their photographer who showed up ready to play with random ass props and wide angle lenses and a flash in the dark (fuck you, daylight savings).

But let’s take it back even further! Their story started, appropriately, at a bar.

But not just any bar! Kelly’s in Westport, an absolute Kansas City legend known for creaky floors, good drinks, late nights, and somehow always running into someone you know. For Emily and Nick, Kelly’s was the site of their first date… and the place where they discovered that an ordinary night out was about to shift into something unmistakably different. They played the little basketball hoop-shooting game, they both felt that tiny flutter of “ruh roh, this might actually be something real.”

So! It makes perfect sense that they’d circle back to Kelly’s on their wedding day.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves!!!

November 22nd started quietly on the porch of Nick’s dad’s cabin in Belton, Missouri. The air had that crisp, breathe-a-little-deeper feeling that only the Midwest seems to get right. Emily and Nick stood together with their families gathered close while the light slowly dipped toward evening. This ceremony felt totally magical in its own right. In between the officiant (Nick’s father) demanding whoops and cheers several times from the audience, there was a certain stillness one could describe as gently affirming and warm. It was like a boisterous energy, all serenely wrapped up in love, kind of like when your hyper dog is finally settling down for the night. Does that make sense?

In all honesty, the whole ceremony felt grounding, and it reminded me why I do this shit. It almost felt like the older kind of weddings. Y’know, the ones that didn’t need a production budget to feel meaningful? Just two people who love each other, getting married on a fucking porch, dude. That’s my favorite thing. No pomp, no circumstance, just porch. More porch weddings! That’s the Missouri way! You can take the girl out of the country, but you’ll never take the country out of the girl!

MOVING ON! Emily looked stunning!!!! There was this glow about her that came from her whole presence, not just her dress. She was such a cool-girl-bride, and she moved about so effortlessly. And then there was Nick, casually rocking snakeskin boots like it was the most normal thing in the world. And for a cool fucking dude, it is.

After the “I do’s,” they hugged everyone in reach, did a champagne toast, and an intimate little cake cutting. It was a delicious Nothing Bundt Cake with Goomba and Monty Mole perched proudly on top, which tells you everything you need to know about this couple. As if I haven’t made it clear enough, they don’t hide the things they love, they just… sorta… put them right in the middle of the room and let them be part of the day.

THEN we ran off to take portraits before the night went full party-mode.

And I truly mean ran. (Again, thanks a lot, daylight savings.)

We zipped around the cabin property to get family photos like fucking goblins. Then, it was off to Westport to explore alleyways and go geo-caching for murals. They gave me full creative freedom and trusted every weird idea I threw at them. From the beginning they had told me they knew I had a vision and could execute it, even in the dark, which might be the most loving thing anyone can say to a photographer like me. You might as well ask me to marry you.

So we played. On-camera flash, strange angles, dramatic shadows, a little nostalgia, a little fever dream, a whole lot of creative portrait energy. It was my kind of playground. Did someone Emily once knew from a past life run into us right as we were going to do our champagne pop? Yes. Did this person mention how she thought Emily was pregnant because of how her fur was draping around her midsection? Also yes. Did we let it bother us? Kinda, but we moved on quick! And THAT is how you roll with the punches.

Once we wrapped portraits, it was time to head back to Kelly’s in Westport, the bar where they had their first date. It’s not exactly your… traditional reception choice. It’s not a ballroom or a vineyard or anything with a dedicated wedding coordinator. It’s… Kelly’s. A place with history in the walls. I mean, it’s Kansas City’s oldest bar (tavern?)! It’s got the kind of floor you can almost hear stories from.

And before anyone even got a drink, the first curveball of the night hit.

They had forgotten all the cupcakes at the cabin. L-O-FUCKING-L!

All of them. Still sitting out in Belton, nowhere near Westport. No time to turn around, no extra driver, nothing. Luckily, I was blessed with the world’s chillest and funniest bride who was like, “Right. Of course.”

So her mom marches across the street to the poor underpaid workers at Insomnia Cookies and basically begged for mercy. “Hi, we need wedding desserts, immediately, we’re desperate.” And BLESS that staff, because they absolutely pulled through. Those cookies instantly became the heroes of the night.

While everyone was celebrating the cookie victory, we got the other blow. Kelly’s little pizza operation that’s ran out of the back revealed that they had forgotten to start making the pizzas. CLASSIC! So the food arrived in these little sporadic waves, one pizza at a time. People pounced on each one like it was the last snack on earth.

To add to it: Emily is vegetarian, and there was exactly one cheese pizza in the first round, which disappeared so fast I’m not sure anyone actually tasted it. She sure as fuck didn’t. There wasn’t a single slice left for her. It wasn’t until almost the end of the night (and many, many drinks) that another cheese pizza finally showed up like a tiny miracle.

Did any of this bother the couple or the guests? Not at all. That’s the thing about nights like this, man. When the energy is good, the mishaps feel like part of the story instead of problems to solve. People danced, smoked cigarettes outside in the cold, grabbed drinks, hugged everyone, told stories, and laughed about every strange thing that kept happening. The disasters didn’t take anything away. If anything, it made the room feel even more alive. It was one big evening that truly encapsulated the feeling of, “FUCK IT! WE’RE MARRIED!”

I always say this, so I know I sound like a broken fucking record at this point… but there’s always this pressure that weddings are supposed to look perfect and elegant and fucking sterile. Which in turn makes me feel like I’m on set, shooting for a magazine instead of capturing the day of two people who adore each other. Emily and Nick didn’t play that game for even one second!! Their day had texture and personality and a sort of playful shrug that said, “Whatever happens, happens.” (See also: FUCK IT, WE’RE MARRIED!)

Their wedding wasn’t neat or meticulously planned. I asked for details on specific things I think of when shooting, and they had no input. Not that they hadn’t considered these details, but that they didn’t give a shit. It rocked. Still yet, this day had this magnetic, emotional pull that made every moment feel meaningful. From my perspective as a photographer, that kind of day is a gift. I’d take it over a tight timeline and flawless décor any time.

And, I just gotta revisit this: the trust they gave me changed everything. Even once it got dark outside, they never hesitated. They were ready to slip out onto the sidewalks of Westport and let me create whatever ideas popped into my brain. Darkness doesn’t scare me. I love playing with my flash. I love using different angles to shape a scene and catching pockets of neon light bouncing around the street. Westport gave us so much, from the alleyways to the glow of the bar signs. The only thing stopping us from shooting for hours were Emily’s heels and the ice cold beers at Kelly’s calling our names.

I’m telling you, when a couple trusts me like that, the photos breathe differently. They open up. They get stranger and more intimate, but in the best way. You start seeing who they are instead of who they think they’re supposed to be on camera. So, by the end of the night, their wedding felt like a collage of tiny moments that added up to one very human, very heartfelt, very hilarious day. It didn’t feel perfect in the traditional sense, but it felt perfectly theirs.

Emily and Nick reminded me that weddings don’t have to be polished to be meaningful. Sometimes the missing desserts and the late pizzas and the frantic cookie rescue missions are exactly what make a day unforgettable. The real magic is in the people and the energy and the willingness to just roll with whatever the universe throws your way.

And if that isn’t worth celebrating out loud, I don’t know what is.