They got married twice.
They earned both of them.
A Tinder date at Street 66, and the word that slipped out at 11pm
Thais and Felly met on Tinder — the modern love story we've stopped apologising for. First date at Street 66, the Dublin queer bar that has hosted more first dates than anyone has counted. Drinks too sweet. Eyes that wouldn't quit. Months later they were lying in bed at 11pm talking about the future when Thais let the word "married" slip out first. Felly was a little — okay, a lot — too excited about that word being in the room. She went out the next morning and bought engagement rings. Two of them. Just in case.
That's the part of their story that makes me laugh every time. Two rings. Just in case. They were so afraid of getting the moment wrong they got it twice over, before either of them had even decided who was going to do the asking. The asking ended up being mutual. The yes was also mutual. Both rings got worn.
The first wedding — and the sickness that nobody had on the schedule
They got married twice. The first time at the registry — quiet, fast, paperwork-fast, the way it had to be. The papers were barely filed when Felly got sick. Properly sick. Life-or-death sick. The kind of sick that turns "in sickness and in health" from a phrase you say out of tradition to a phrase you live by because there's nothing else to lean on.
I'm not going to write the whole arc of that part here — it's not mine to tell. What I can say is what every queer person who's been through a medical system already knows: the registry papers, the legal marriage, the fact that Thais was officially Felly's spouse and not just her girlfriend — that piece of paper was protection. That piece of paper was access. That piece of paper was the answer to are you family? being yes, automatically, in rooms where the wrong answer can lock you out. The first wedding wasn't romantic. The first wedding was the foundation that made the second one possible.
It took time for Felly to recover. When she did, they decided the wedding everyone had been waiting for would happen — properly, this time, with the people.
April 5th, 2026 — Powerscourt Estate, Wicklow
The second wedding happened at Powerscourt Estate & Gardens, the historic estate in Enniskerry, County Wicklow — one of the most cinematic Irish wedding venues outside Dublin. Getting ready at the Powerscourt Hotel. Ceremony on the grounds. Reception that ran long, loud, true.
I was on film. Photo was Katie Farrell. Felly's vows went barely above a whisper. Thais's vows broke twice. The friends at the front row knew exactly which version of in sickness and in health they were watching and let themselves cry the way the day asked them to. DJ later. Dancing later. Everyone they love in one room, finally — the room that the first wedding hadn't been allowed to have.
The brief was simple. Home-made nostalgic, authentic candid joyful tearful, no producing the moment. That's the easiest brief I've ever worked from. The day produced itself. As a queer-led wedding videographer based in Dublin, this is the kind of brief I'm always hoping the couple gives me. Don't direct it. Don't manufacture it. Just watch — and trust me to see.
You can watch the full film below.
Coverage · Full-day film, Wicklow
Ceremony & reception · Powerscourt Estate & Gardens · Enniskerry, Wicklow
Getting ready · Powerscourt Hotel
Photo · Katie Farrell
First date venue · Street 66, Dublin