Nearly twenty years ago, Christy and I met in a darkroom. We bonded over photography — standing under red light, watching prints slowly come to life in trays of developer, modeling for each other and talking about the quiet magic of transforming the world through the lens.
I don’t think either of us imagined that two decades later, I’d be standing in her home photographing her living room elopement, but I genuinely cannot think of a more fitting full-circle moment. Documenting their intimate home wedding felt less like a job and more like witnessing a chapter gently turn into a new one, and I could not be more excited for them!

Originally, they were planning to head to the courthouse and keep things simple. Quick, easy, done. But at the last minute, they changed course and chose something that felt more like them — a living room elopement in the place that is truly their comfort zone.
Only their parents were there, along with their officiant (another longtime friend) and me. It was small, intentional, and completely unpretentious in the best way.
They described their style as “DIY quickie,” which honestly makes me smile because it was exactly that — relaxed, personal, and focused on what actually mattered.


They got ready together instead of separating for some dramatic reveal. She helped him with his jacket, he buttoned the delicate lace on her sleeve, and they laughed in the bathroom mirror like it was any other morning, except it absolutely wasn’t.
There was something grounding about watching them prepare side by side, without performance or pressure. They splurged on their rings, and you could tell those mattered. Everything else was simple and intentional. The focus wasn’t on production — it was on commitment.
And then there was the “something borrowed” moment. None of Christy’s bras were working with her dress, so without hesitation I said, “Here, try mine.” Michael noted that it counted as her something borrowed. I would loan my bra to any bride if necessary, but there was something especially natural about doing that for such a good friend of mine. That moment perfectly sums up the day for me — part photographer, part friend, fully invested.





All of the portraits and the ceremony itself happened inside their home, mostly in front of their baby grand piano and a wall lined with guitars. If you know them, that backdrop makes complete sense. The music, the creativity, the personality — it was already there, woven into the walls.
When they exchanged vows during their living room elopement, there was no music playing and no choreography to the moment. It was simply their voices, steady and certain, promising forever in front of the people who raised them.
After they were pronounced husband and wife, they sealed it with a kiss — which Christy later said was her favorite moment because it marked the first second of their life together in this new way. You could feel the shift. It was quiet, but it was real.








We moved into the kitchen for sparkling cider and cake, and that’s when things got even more them. The cake leaned noticeably to one side, and the Day of the Dead topper absolutely refused to stay upright. It kept tipping over, and we kept laughing as they tried to steady it long enough to cut a slice.
We snacked on gourmet pretzels, pigs in a blanket, hummus and pita, and lingered at the table talking. It felt like a celebration you’d actually want to attend — warm, low-pressure, and full of inside jokes.








After we’d eaten and toasted, we moved back to the living room for portraits. Photos with their parents. Photos with their dog (who, kept trying to eat his flower collar). And then a few quiet newlywed portraits that felt relaxed and unforced.
There’s a different energy to an intimate home wedding. It’s slower. More conversational. You don’t feel rushed from one “event” to the next because there aren’t really events — just moments unfolding.





In hindsight, Christy said the best decision they made was marrying each other in front of their loved ones instead of going to the courthouse. What surprised them most was how smoothly everything went.
That’s the thing about a living room elopement. When you strip away expectations and noise, what remains is simply the commitment and the people who matter.


One of the sweetest parts of this day for me wasn’t just the history we share — it was hearing how Christy experienced the day from her side. She said working together was “fabulous, as always,” and that what she loved most was how easy it is to be themselves around me. She also mentioned that I helped in “so many different ways,” from pinning boutonnieres to lending her the clothes off my back — which, yes, was my bra — and we’ll forever refer to that as her something borrowed. She shared:
“Lara was a joy to work with. She got along great with everyone and was helpful in every way. She helped preserve the memories of our special day and we would happily recommend her.”
Moments like this are exactly why I care so deeply about the experience, not just the poses.


Christy and Michael, I am genuinely so happy for you both. Your living room elopement was simple, personal, and completely true to who you are together. Watching you step into marriage in a space that feels like home — surrounded by the people who shaped you — was such an honor.
May your next chapter feel just like your wedding day: steady, full of laughter, rooted in comfort, and finding a way to laugh when the cake topper topples.
Thank you for trusting me — not just as your photographer, but as your friend.
Photography: L.Morgan Photography
Florals: Petal Pushers
Dress: Azazie
Suit: Jos. A. Bank
Jeweler: Glamira & Larson Jewelers
If you’re considering a living room elopement or a small, at-home celebration, know that your day doesn’t need a ballroom to be meaningful. Sometimes the most personal spaces tell the best stories. If that sounds like you, I’d love to talk about what your wedding could look like.
