We’re no strangers to celeb weddings. They aren’t really the best kept secrets, with murmurs of the grand day doing the rounds in the run up to the big day, often snippets floated by the PR machinery of the couple for glossy tit-bit consumption. The weddings then turn into an opulent show, with well-choreographed sequences and airbrushed photographs drip-fed into the public domain, and crores netted for exclusive access to visuals, by online and offline publishing houses, for the parade. So, what’s so different about the newest coupling on the block?
There is nothing grandiose about the Vicky Kaushal- Katrina Kaif marriage. No firang attendees (if you don’t count her non-celeb family), forget global A-listers pouting paens on the glorious, regal destination and dazzling revelry in Rajasthan; the scene bereft of caparisoned elephants and polo matches for everyone to flaunt their phoren sundresses and hats. This shaadi was clearly without a saleable peg. Even the groom (never mind the National Award under his belt) measured up second in wattage to the heroine-wife: so, no dual superstar status. For the Anand-Sonam Kapoor starrer, it was all about solemn looks in snob designerwear, and sneaking in sports shoes with lehengas and sherwanis to perhaps spur on a stan culture inspired trend, to further boost hubby’s business hinged on foot athleisure. The Deepika Padukone-Ranveer Singh nuptials spelt carefully created resplendence, with larger-than-life antique jewels and flowing gowns and lavish sarees. A bit OTT on the bling quotient. Virat-Anushka managed to shroud a substantial part of their wedding proceedings in secrecy, choosing a venue abroad. The quieter, albeit less prominent ones – Shriya Saran, Neha Dhupia, Dia Mirza, Rajkumaar Rao, Yami Gautam…few lingered on. Of course, Priyanka Chopra enjoyed the first starter advantage in the Superstar Weddings 2.0, setting the stage for the mother of all weddings, with a mind boggling mix of the desi and videshi in a Jodhpur wedding, replete with tulle tie ups, an exquisite Ralph Lauren gown, and a mix of pix where the bride and groom laughed in abandon, and posed for perfect frames the next second. But even she didn’t go the haldi way, putting out choicest pictures of the big day only after hours of careful selection.
That’s what makes the VicKat wedding (alas! They too went the portmanteau way with the moniker mash up) more identifiable: the color of warmth that runs through. It’s palpable. Vicky- Katrina’s shaadi might not rank super high on the list of importing exotic flowers, and having a dozen varieties of caviar on the table, or for frou frou conscious wedding favours: but they look happy, dancing in abandonment, making public pictures of them slathered with haldi-malai, mehendi making in progress… Candid, casual, cool shots. There isn’t the expected blushing goodness. Sabya brides are de rigueur anyway! Good old ghee ladoos made for the giver of good news. Forget the cougar barbs, isn’t the VicKat wedding nasha pure fun, as everyone seems to be having? From smearing each other with haldi-malai-chandan paste to bursting into bhangra with the dhol and tabbar, to having all their siblings, portly Papas, beaming Mamas sharing with one of the most special days of their life, the blitz and the blah has been more about the informal than about the fabulosity. Even the groom is believable – with his non typical good looks and facial fuzz, he doesn’t appear to have boringly sauntered out of a band box with a bow tie. On a scale of low-key to lavish, it strikes a perfect delectable balance.
Shilpi Madan for Deccan Chronicle