Most things are bad these days, but not everything. Consider: the wedding of Finnish prime minister Sanna Marin, who married her longtime partner Markus Räikkönen this weekend.
The 34-year-old, who shares a 2-year-old daughter with her now-husband, tied the knot wearing a long-sleeved gown by Finnish designer Anni Ruuth, whose Instagram bio promises ensembles that “reveal your inner Swan Queen.” It was the second time Marin wore the dress—back in 2018, she tapped Ruuth to outfit her for an event celebrating Finnish Independence Day.
“The dress has several uses and in addition to the party, it is also intended to serve as my future wedding dress,” Marin wrote at the time. “It was important to me that the costume is ethically made and will continue to be used after Independence Day.”
She carried a bouquet of white roses that matched the flower on Räikkönen’s lapel. The pair posed together in natural light with big smiles, looking like a stock couple living inside a Target picture frame. These two!
“I am happy and grateful that I get to share my life with the man I love,” Marin wrote in an Instagram post. “We have seen and experienced a lot together, shared joys and sorrows, and supported each other at the bottom and in the storm... Of all the people, you’re right for me. Thank you for being by my side.”
The Finnish government’s official Twitter page congratulated the couple using a heart emoji, because their social media manager is apparently with it. A photo accompanying the tweet shows Marin and her husband standing on a white bridge, tree branches artfully angling behind them, her bulldozer of a tulle veil so long it reaches out of the shot.
It’s a wedding pulled from Pinterest, which makes sense, given Marin’s age and status as a kind of politician-influencer. The prime minister frequently posts on Instagram to her 320,000 followers, and her wedding is no exception.
Marin’s soirée had an aspirational vibe that should be familiar to anyone who has been to a wedding in the past decade. It took place outside, probably due to both pandemic regulations and trendiness.
The few guests—close friends and family—sat on white wicker furniture underneath hanging twinkle ball lights. Things looked understated, rustic, ethereal. It was the millennial aesthetic gone Nordic, a Disneyworld seemingly designed by Etsy vintage sellers.
It is also bittersweet, leaving many of us wondering if we’ll go through the highs and lows of wedding season ever again. When will be the next time we find ourselves in a conga line? Stuck talking to a drunk relative at a too-tight dinner table? Waiting for a verbose toast to end?
If I knew the sobbing bridesmaid at the November wedding I went to would be the last person I'd watch raising a glass to the happy couple for the foreseeable future, I would have listened more closely to her. Who knows when it will happen again.
Until then, many congratulations to the happy couple.