Here Comes the Pride: February’s Letter From the Editor of JCK Magazine

My parents were married in a civil ceremony in Leningrad—the once and future St. Petersburg—on a spring afternoon in 1973. Like most Soviet-era weddings, the service lacked pomp and circumstance (to say the least). The reception took place at their tiny apartment, where friends honored them with shots of vodka and champanskaya. They exchanged plain yellow gold bands that day, but there was no engagement ring. The event was a straightforward, if not entirely sober, affair.In other words, I don't have a lot of expectations about weddings—or wedding jewelry. I've attended destination weddings, ethnic weddings, city hall weddings, church weddings, backyard weddings, beach weddings, hotel weddings, even a surprise wedding—and no two were alike.The one kind of wedding I have yet to attend is a same-sex wedding, though it shouldn't be long now. My gay friends are starting to talk marria

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