Over the past decade or so, I've heard many women (friends, family, and celebrities in Us Weekly) plan their weddings with the promise of simplicity: "I just want it to be simple," they'll say. "It's going to be SO simple. Like, you know. Just me, Kevin,* (*anonymous pseudonym) and 500 of our closest friends in a rustic barn in Western New York draped in wisteria; a five-piece bluegrass band; organic orchid centerpieces at every table; a signature cocktail; and a gluten-free acai berry cake with a free trade 98% cacao ganache. You know...SIMPLE." Simplicity of dress is also oft-announced, but 25 try-ons and fittings later, simplicity (at least as conventionally defined) is elusive.
Understand that the person making this observation chose to get married in her in-laws' living room on Long Island, with zero friends present, wearing an outfit that she now hesitates to call a dress and that her uncle said made her look like a prosecutor. A foot-long sub also might have arrived at one point, but she can't recall for sure.
I'm not claiming that this event was "simple" either, mind you. Because let's be honest: unless you're offering two goats for a dowry--and probably even then--the "simplest" thing anyone can do is "simply" not to get married at all.