Weddings, planned & held · Bath
Linen & Lace plans twelve weddings a year — never more — with one planner from the first tea to the last taxi. Plain words, careful work, and a day that runs to the minute without anyone feeling the minutes.
Why twelve
Planning collapses when a studio runs thirty weddings a summer — suddenly you're a spreadsheet row and your questions take four days. Twelve a year means your planner answers before dinner, has stood in your venue in the rain on purpose, and knows which uncle needs a job to feel useful.
It also means we say no politely and often. The calendar on the studio wall has twelve nails in it. When they're full, they're full.
Real weddings
Shared with permission, remembered in detail.
The year
Twelve months, four honest phases. You'll always know which one you're in and what it costs.
The shape and the budget truth — what your number really buys in this county, said kindly and in writing before anything is booked.
The team locked: venue, food, flowers, photographer — each one someone we've stood next to at ten weddings, not a directory result.
The run sheet. Forty pages nobody reads but us, which is the point — every question now has an answer that isn't you.
You hold hands. We hold the clipboard, the rings, the weather plan and the uncle. Nothing reaches you but the good parts.
The record
Your only job on the day is to be in it.
Ways to work
Every arrangement starts with the same free hour of tea and honesty about budgets. Bring your number; we'll tell you what it buys.
£4,800 from yes to taxi
Everything, from the first venue walk to the last candle out. Eight of the twelve nails.
£1,600 the landing
You've planned it; we land it. Run sheet, supplier wrangling, and the day itself.
£850 on the day
Clipboard, rings, weather plan, uncle. For couples who planned beautifully and want to attend.
From the twelve
It rained sideways for an hour. I found out from the photos, three weeks later, because the plan B happened without a single person asking me anything.
She told us in the first meeting our budget didn't buy peonies in December, and what it did buy. We trusted her with everything after that sentence.
Eight guests, a violin, and somehow still forty pages of run sheet. My only job was to read my vows without crying. I failed. It was perfect.
The first hour
The first hour is free, in the studio, with the good teapot. Bring your date, your number and each other — we'll bring the calendar with the nails in it.
Visitors pick a date and time here, then leave their details.
The studio
Gay Street, the first floor with the linen curtains. If that scarcity line worries you, it should — the nails fill by autumn.