As a couple of adventurous backpackers with no savings and a strict time limit imposed by U.S. Immigration, my now-husband and I catered our own wedding out of necessity. My Irishman and I met on a fruit-picking farm in Australia where, amongst the plague of flies, sweat, and 30 other backpackers, we found love.
An international betrothal meant a lot of paperwork and a lot of waiting. Eight months of waiting, to be exact, during which we had no indication if or when his visa would be approved. Much to my dismay, planning a wedding in any detail wasn’t possible. We didn’t know much, but we did know that once the visa was approved and the Irishman landed on American soil, we would have 90 days to get married. Oh, and that we were pathetically poor.
Here’s how we catered our wedding — and what we would have done differently.