I had a micro wedding last fall. Twenty-two guests, one dog, and a taco truck. It was small, sweet, and a little messy. And you know what? It felt right for us.
Want another peek at how a pint-sized celebration can still pack an emotional punch? Read this micro-wedding recap from VT Vows.
I’ll tell you what worked, what didn’t, and what I’d change. I’ll share real stuff we used. Prices too. Because planning can get foggy fast. If you want more intimate-wedding inspiration and vendor tips, take a spin through VT Vows before you start pinning.
What I mean by “micro wedding”
For us, “micro” meant:
- 30 guests max (we ended at 22)
- A short ceremony, simple dinner, and a playlist
- No ballroom, no giant budget, no fuss
It wasn’t an elopement. It wasn’t a big party. It was a tiny wedding with real vows, real food, and a real timeline. If you're curious about how COVID fueled this downsized trend—and what the typical price tag looks like—Refinery29’s minimony cost breakdown is a helpful primer.
The setup we actually used
We rented an Airbnb cabin near Asheville, North Carolina that allowed small events. I got it in writing. The host capped us at 25 people, and quiet hours started at 10 p.m. We stuck to both.
Here’s what we used and how it went:
- Dress: Off-the-rack at David’s Bridal. $299. Hemmed by a local tailor. It fit well, and I could breathe. That mattered more than lace.
- Suit: Men’s Wearhouse rental. Classic navy. No drama.
- Flowers: Trader Joe’s stems. My sister and I made bouquets the night before. We watched a YouTube video, spilled water, and laughed a lot. Some blooms drooped by the next day. I didn’t care.
- Food: A local taco truck parked by the driveway. We did chicken, cauliflower, rice, beans, and salsa. No plated service, just paper boats. It was fast, hot, and fun.
- Cake: A two-tier lemon cake from Publix with raspberry filling. We asked for smooth buttercream. The design was simple, clean, and honestly tasty.
- Music: A Spotify playlist on my iPhone and a JBL Charge 5 speaker. We queued songs with a star emoji. It worked—until it didn’t (more on that).
- Photos: A local photographer who shot on a Canon R6 with a Sigma 35mm 1.4. Clean color, soft light. I liked the warm tones. We got sneak peeks in 48 hours.
- Ceremony: A friend got ordained through Universal Life Church. She kept it short, 12 minutes. We wrote our vows on note cards.
- Streaming: We used Zoom on an iPad with a tripod. I clipped a small mic to our officiant. The Wi-Fi barely held, but our grandparents saw the kiss.
- Rentals: 24 chairs and two farm tables. Picked up by the rental company. No hauling for us.
- Day-of help: A coordinator I found on Thumbtack. She built our timeline, wrangled the taco truck, and kept me hydrated. Worth it.
The flow was simple: photos at 2:30 p.m., ceremony at 3:30, golden hour portraits at 5, tacos at 5:30, toasts, cake, s’mores by the fire, hugs, and goodbyes by 9:45.
What worked great
- The guest list felt human. I actually talked to everyone. More than once. That never happens at big weddings.
- The taco truck was fast and fun. No one waited long. Guests grabbed seconds, and the salsa had a kick.
- The small space felt warm. People mingled. It was like a family holiday, but with vows.
- Photos were fast. No huge “shot list.” We did couples, parents, and the group. Done in 30 minutes.
- Budget stayed sane. I’ll show numbers below. We didn’t go into stress debt or money debt.
- The vows landed. No echo, no mic stand, no big stage. Just us and a few folks who love us.
For more honest intel on what can soar—and what can sputter—when you keep the guest list tight, I highly recommend this small-wedding debrief.
What didn’t go so smooth
- The speaker died during our first dance. It was my fault—I forgot to charge it. We plugged it into an extension cord mid-song and kept swaying. It’s a funny memory now.
- Zoom froze twice. The cabin Wi-Fi wasn’t strong. Next time, I’d use a phone hotspot.
- DIY flowers drooped. They looked fine in photos, but by sunset, a few roses were sleepy.
- Seating got tight. Farm tables look cute, but the runners and centerpieces ate space. We took off two chargers to make room for plates. No one cared.
- A neighbor called at 9:15 p.m. He asked us to lower the music. We did. Quiet hours are real.
- The cake leaned a little in the October sun. We moved it inside and cooled it. It survived, but I learned: buttercream and heat are enemies.
If you're wondering whether cupcakes could sidestep some of those buttercream woes, skim this fun cupcake swap tale before you place your bakery order.
Real numbers from my budget
Here’s our actual spend, rounded:
- Airbnb (2 nights, event fee included): $1,050
- Tacos for 25 (includes staff and travel): $1,250
- Photographer (4 hours): $1,400
- Rentals (24 chairs, 2 farm tables, delivery): $420
- Day-of coordinator (6 hours): $600
- Dress + tailoring: $420
- Suit rental: $240
- Cake (two-tier, simple design): $185
- Flowers (Trader Joe’s): $120
- Invitations (Etsy template, printed at Staples): $74
- JBL speaker (I already owned it, but retail): ~$180
- Decor (candles, runners, frames): $110
- S’mores + drinks (Costco run): $210
- Misc (permit check, extra cords, lighters, trash bags): $85
Total: about $6,344. For a deeper dive into where micro-wedding budgets typically stretch—and where they snap—peek at this practical cost guide.
Could it be cheaper? Yes. Could it be more? Also yes. But this felt fair for what we got.
Small, but still real: the feelings
I thought micro meant zero stress. That wasn’t true. It was less stress. But still real. I cared about the vows, the timing, the people. I had little butterflies. I cried a little in the bathroom when the Zoom froze. Then I laughed, wiped my face, and walked back out.
Tips I wish I knew
- Charge the speaker. Then bring a power bank. Just do it.
- Test Wi-Fi at ceremony time. Sunlight and bodies change the signal. Use a hotspot if you can.
- Confirm house rules in writing. Guest count, parking, quiet hours, and vendor rules.
- Hire a day-of helper. Even for small weddings. It frees your brain.
- Keep the shot list tiny. Three groups, max. You’ll enjoy golden hour more.
- Make a run-of-show. Put it on one page. Hand it to your team.
- Buy extra extension cords. And tape. And baby wipes. You’ll use them.
- Have shade for the cake. Buttercream melts fast.
- Cap your playlist. 3 hours is enough. You want hugs, not a club.
- Vet any vendor you find online. Gorgeous Instagram grids can hide sketchy realities. For a vivid reminder of how easily someone can spin a fake identity, skim this eye-opening story about getting catfished—it breaks down common deception tactics and equips you with warning signs so you don’t hand deposit money to a phantom florist.
Planning events around your micro wedding might also include organizing a light-hearted bachelor or bachelorette get-together—especially if you’re tying the knot near Birmingham, Alabama. You can browse a curated, discreet roster of local companions through Bessemer escorts to compare services and pricing in advance, saving you time and avoiding awkward last-minute scrambling.
Who should do a micro wedding?
- Folks who want time with each guest
- People with tiny families or blended families
- Couples who hate seating charts
- Anyone who likes cozy spaces
- Second weddings, weekday weddings, mountain cabin weddings
If you want a big dance floor, a string quartet, and ten bridesmaids, go big. That’s fine too. Micro is a vibe, not a rule.