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A December City Hall micro wedding is what Maritess and Ross planned in San Francisco, a few days before Christmas in 2025. A small group came for it, and the day carried the quiet of the season — the low winter light, the marble under the dome, the whole thing close and unhurried.
The morning was for getting ready at their hotel, where a grand old staircase gave them their first look. The vows came in the afternoon, beneath City Hall's rotunda. Then portraits, and a dinner across town, a warm room out of the December air.
Maritess got ready in a hotel suite above the city, the skyline out the tall windows and a Venetian glass chandelier overhead. Her gown was strapless ivory satin, gathered and ruched at the waist, and over it she wore a long mantilla veil, the lace edge scalloped in a wide floral border and pinned back to frame her face, with pearl drop earrings and a delicate emerald-green necklace. Her bridesmaids gathered around in mixed jewel tones — navy, mauve, a rose-gold metallic, a deep red — phones up, filming her as she set the veil.
Ross dressed in a black tuxedo with satin lapels, and instead of a plain boutonniere he wore a deep burgundy floral lei draped at his collar, a matching burgundy bloom pinned at the lapel. Her bouquet, when it came, was the boldest thing in the room: wine-red cymbidium orchids and calla lilies, big white phalaenopsis, and long strands of red amaranthus trailing almost to the floor.
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Before they left for City Hall, they had their first look on the hotel's grand staircase — marble steps, ornate black-iron scrollwork railings, holiday greenery wound along the floor below. Maritess came down from the landing and Ross turned to see her, and they read letters to each other from a tooled-leather book, her hand at his face, the burgundy bouquet bright between them, before a kiss on the stairs.
The ceremony itself took place beneath the rotunda, where the dome opens overhead and the light falls soft from above. Their officiant led the vows while a string group from Bay Area All Strings & Brass played, the two of them standing together in the middle of all that stone — their closest people in close, the rings exchanged, the marble carrying every word.
“Beneath the dome, a few days before Christmas, the marble carried every word.”
Some of the day's best moments came on that staircase — the couple close together on the landing, the black ironwork and pale marble around them, the winter light coming flat and even through the windows. Maritess's bouquet and Ross's lei kept a deep note of color running through every shot, and her emerald necklace caught the light against the ivory satin.
They moved through the marble unhurried, family gathering in for a few photos, the season's greenery threaded through the space around them. With rooms like these, every surface was already doing the work.
For the evening, the group moved to a restaurant across town — a warm room out of the December air, tables set close. There was a cake to cut and the kind of long, easy meal a small wedding makes room for.
It ended the way the day had run all along: quiet, close, and theirs, a few days short of Christmas in the city.