Evorrah Moodboard · Two worlds ChosenA

Alice Harper & Antoine Bernard

Alice & Antoine

A wedding at Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, Maincy — the fifteenth of October, two thousand and twenty-six, at six in the evening.

Direction A

Jardin Romantique

or
Direction B

Récolte Éditoriale

“An autumn wedding at the most beautiful garden in France. October light through stone windows. Two people who chose each other deliberately. The design should carry the weight of that choice — and nothing heavier.”

Where it started

One October at Vaux-le-Vicomte, told two ways. Autumn is not one season — it is a soft one and a severe one, and both are true of the same fortnight. We have not tried to reconcile them. Each world below is given room to be fully itself.

The coupleAlice Harper & Antoine Bernard
DateThursday, 15 October 2026 · 18:00
Ceremony & receptionChâteau de Vaux-le-Vicomte, Maincy
The feeling they choseIntimate & Romantic
In their wordsSoft, botanical, handwritten
Suite languageEnglish
The venue, as the reference A 17th-century Le Vau château south-east of Paris with Le Nôtre's formal gardens — parterres, box hedging, a long water axis, pale limestone. The gardens are the reference, not the state rooms.
Six pieces Invitation · Save the Date · RSVP Card · Menu Card · Place Cards · Envelope Liner
Direction A

Jardin Romantique

The gardens at Vaux-le-Vicomte seen through pressed glass — colours lifted from sweet peas and wild sage, typography that moves like handwriting on a letter found in a drawer. This direction leans into the romance of the season before it turns. Soft, personal, impossibly tender.

flowers you pressed, not staged watercolour, wet-in-wet the words stand in bare paper no drawn ornament tender, never dramatic
Watercolour: pressed sweet peas and sage sprigs laid on a deckle-edged cotton sheet on a stone ledge, a cottage garden behind
The world, entireFlowers pressed and kept on a sheet of cotton, set down on a stone ledge in the garden they came from. Everything below is inside this one picture.
Watercolour of a cottage garden — stone farmhouse, gravel path, climbing roses, sweet peas and foxgloves
The placeA garden that is walked in rather than looked at. Roses on the stone, a path, the last warm weekend.
Close watercolour of pressed sweet pea blossoms in blush, mauve and cream with curling tendrils
The motif familySweet pea, wild sage, a loose tendril. One family of plants, painted flat and translucent as if pressed under glass — nothing exotic, nothing arranged.
Close watercolour of grey-green sage leaves showing their felted texture
The greenWild sage, not eucalyptus and not fern — grey, felted, kitchen-garden. It is the colour that holds the blush down and stops the world becoming sweet.
Watercolour of loose fallen sweet pea petals scattered on a cotton sheet and on the stone beside it
The colour, loosePetals fall off the sheet and onto the stone. The palette is taken from these, not chosen for them.
Photograph of a sheet of ivory cotton rag paper with a natural deckle edge on a limestone ledge, one pressed blossom and a sage leaf resting on it
The materialHeavy cotton rag with a natural deckle. Uncoated, so the colour sinks into the sheet rather than sitting on it. No foil, no cut, no shine.
Watercolour detail of the bare upper half of the pressed sheet, its deckle edge and faint dashed stitch border, almost empty
Where the words goThe board's one structural idea: the flowers gather to one side and leave a clearing of bare sheet. Every word this suite prints will stand in that gap — never on top of the painting.
Wide watercolour band of pressed sweet peas and sage laid in a row across a cotton sheet with a dashed stitch border
How it repeatsLaid in a row, the same botanicals become a border for the quietest pieces — the same painting, asked to do less.

The palette

GroundIvory#FBF8F3The surface every piece is set on.
LeadSweet pea blush#EEC5B5The colour that leads — and it leads in the artwork, not in the type.
SupportWild sage#8B9E7EThe green that grounds it. Stems, leaves, the cool half of every wash.
AccentMauve#B88E9CThe deeper petals. Used sparingly, where a bloom turns.
AccentDusty rose#C9A89AThe warm shadow between the two — it keeps the blush from reading pink.
InkDeep bracken#3F362EThe one dark. Every printed word in this world is set in it.

Blush and mauve are imagery colours and will never be used as text — on ivory they read at 1.5:1 and 2.7:1. Sage is the same: it draws, it does not write. Anything a guest has to read is bracken.

The typography

Type specimen

Display · Dancing Script. Chosen because it is a hand and not a calligraphy — it moves the way a letter written quickly moves.

Body · Cormorant Garamond, italic. Light, slightly narrow, old. It carries the practical lines without ever raising its voice.

Two families and no more. Dates are written out in words; the weekday is left off entirely.

What this world is not

  • Bold or heavy typography
  • Geometric or architectural shapes
  • Deep saturated colours
  • Graphic or editorial layout

References

Monet's GivernyLadurée ParisBeatrix Potter Atelier JolieProvençal farmhousesDiary watercolours

How this world lands

Invitation

The fullest painting of the six, and the largest clearing. The names are the biggest thing on the card; everything practical sits under them in the bare sheet.

The small pieces

The smaller the piece, the less the clearing can do. Below a certain size it stops reading as a device at all — so the painting simply takes the whole card, and the name stands in it.

The envelope

The one place the painting is allowed to be loud: a liner printed edge to edge in botanicals, carrying no words at all.

On a screen

The botanicals hold their own side and the reply panel takes the clearing. A light world throughout — this one never goes dark.

The guest's arc

They meet the garden before they meet the couple: flowers, then a name, then a date, then a place.

What this world had still to settle
  • Whether the clearing can always be where the words need to be. The flowers gather to one side and every word stands in the gap they leave. That is the board's one structural idea, and each piece has a different amount to say.
  • Whether wet-in-wet can be reproduced without going flat. Colour sinking into an uncoated sheet is the material argument; a scan of a wet wash printed digitally is a photograph of one.
  • Whether wild sage is enough to keep it from being sweet. The grey felted green is doing all the work of holding the blush down, and it is one colour against a whole palette of tenderness.
  • Whether “the same painting, asked to do less” survives nine pieces. Laying the same botanicals in a row as a border is economical and it is also the same artwork appearing everywhere.

The same October, twice

Tender, or considered.

World B — a dark autumn harvest still life: burgundy dahlias, terracotta chrysanthemums, pomegranates, figs and walnuts on a charcoal linen cloth by a window World A — a watercolour of pressed sweet peas and sage on a cotton sheet in a cottage garden A · Jardin Romantique B · Récolte Éditoriale

Drag the divider. Neither of these is the safe choice — they simply disagree about what October is.

Direction B

Récolte Éditoriale

This is October as Kinfolk sees it — not a soft season but a dramatic one. Burgundy that carries weight. Terracotta that warms without warming. Olive that grounds everything. The typography is editorial, the shapes are architectural, and every card feels like it was art-directed the same week as the harvest. It is autumn, but it has been to Paris.

harvest, not garden photographed, never painted one rule does all the ornament colour with weight considered, never decorated
Dark still life: burgundy dahlias and terracotta chrysanthemums in a stoneware jar with pomegranates, figs, grapes and walnuts on charcoal linen beside a window
The world, entireThe harvest table photographed rather than painted — deep flowers, split fruit, dark linen, one cold window. Everything below is inside this one picture.
Photograph of a château dining room at dusk: a long table under a deep burgundy cloth, low taper candles, bare plaster walls and one tall window
The roomThe evening this suite is written for. A long table, burgundy to the floor, the walls left bare and most of the room in shadow.
Macro photograph of deep burgundy uncoated card stock in raking light, showing a deeply debossed rule and a small block of warm cream
The materialHeavy uncoated card dyed burgundy through, printed in warm cream and struck hard enough that the rule is felt before it is seen. Matte throughout — the gloss and the gold both belong to a different wedding.
Flat-lay photograph on cream paper: a dried oak branch with an acorn and a dried olive sprig laid parallel above a single ruled terracotta line
The motif familyOak and olive, dried and photographed as specimens — never drawn. Beneath them the single terracotta rule that is this world's entire ornament.
Architectural photograph of a pale limestone château wall in hard low sunlight — leaf shadow at the left, a black doorway opening at the centre, lit stone courses at the right
The structureThe château read as geometry rather than as romance — flat blocks of light, a black doorway, one hard edge. This is the shape World A refuses, and it is the clearest single picture of the difference.

The palette

GroundBurgundy#7A1F2CThe ground. Whole pieces are dyed in it rather than printed with it.
AccentTerracotta#C4786AThe rule, the divider, the one warm mark on a cold card.
SupportOlive#576930The green that holds everything down — dried, not fresh.
AccentMustard#C99228Used once and rarely. The last warm light in the room.
InkCream#EAE0D0What every word in this world is set in.

The inversion of World A, exactly: there the paper is pale and the ink is dark; here the paper is dark and the ink is pale. Burgundy is a field, never a letterform.

The typography

Type specimen

Display · Playfair Display 900. A masthead weight. Names are stacked and set large enough to read as a shape before they read as words.

Body · Cormorant Garamond 300. Deliberately thin against it — the contrast between the two weights is the whole editorial gesture.

The same two-family discipline as World A, arguing the opposite case.

What this world is not

  • Script or handwritten type
  • Watercolour or botanical illustration
  • Blush pink or powder tones
  • Gold metallic overuse
  • Pastel or soft colour washes
  • Decorative flourish borders

References

Kinfolk MagazineVogue Living AutumnThe Row F/W Peter LindberghOttolenghi autumn tableFlamant Maison

How this world lands

Invitation

A cream inner card inside a burgundy envelope. An editorial column, a Playfair header, one terracotta rule and no illustration at all.

The small pieces

Crisp cream tent cards, the name in Playfair italic, a burgundy corner rule. Geometry does the work that flowers do in World A.

The envelope

Deep burgundy, lined in a restrained repeating harvest mark — the only place this world repeats anything.

On a screen

A dark page. Cream type on burgundy, the rule holding the column, the photography full-bleed and cold.

The guest's arc

They meet the authority first: a dark envelope, a name at masthead scale, and only then the evening.

What this world had still to settle
  • Whether a dyed-through burgundy card can be printed in cream and still be read. Struck hard enough to be felt before it is seen is the ambition; warm cream on deep burgundy is the tightest contrast in either world.
  • Whether photographed specimens can be shot in time. Oak and olive, dried, never drawn, means a real shoot with real dried material — and this world's whole look depends on it existing.
  • Whether one terracotta rule is enough ornament for nine pieces. It is the entire decorative vocabulary, and the order of service and the menu are where a single rule has the most work to do.
  • Whether “it has been to Paris” is the couple's register or the reference's. The world is built from an editorial look rather than from the château; that is what makes it sharp and it is also the thing that could date it.

The decision, as they saw it

Which October
is your wedding?

A · Jardin RomantiqueBUILT

Your wedding is the season before it turns — soft light, open windows, flowers from the garden, letters you keep. You want it to feel tender, not dramatic.

B · Récolte Éditoriale

Your wedding is autumn with authority — rich colour, sculptural arrangement, editorial restraint. You want it to feel considered, not decorated.

A · Jardin RomantiqueB · Récolte Éditoriale
The season The week before it turns. Warm, open, still flowering. The week after. Cut, gathered, brought indoors.
The ground Ivory cotton rag with a deckle edge — pale, soft, thick. Burgundy card dyed through — dark, flat, hard-edged.
The colour that leads Sweet pea blush, and it leads in the painting rather than the type. Burgundy, and it leads by being the whole surface.
The typography A hand — Dancing Script over a light italic Garamond. A masthead — Playfair 900 over a thin Garamond.
The ornament The botanicals themselves. Nothing is drawn on top of them. One terracotta rule per piece. Nothing else at all.
Where the words sit In a clearing the flowers leave for them. In a column the rule holds open for them.
What the guest keeps Something that looks pressed and saved. Something that looks published.
The risk Tenderness at a vast château can read as small if the paper is not weighty enough. It has to be printed heavy. Authority is easy to overdo; one degree too far and the evening reads corporate rather than considered.
Direction A · Chosen

Jardin Romantique

Alice and Antoine kept the garden. Six pieces were built out of this world — the same pressed botanicals massed to one side of every card, and every word standing in the clearing they leave behind.

See the finished suite →
Direction B · Not carried forward

Récolte Éditoriale

Fully developed and genuinely available — the harvest world would have made a beautiful and quite different wedding. It is not a weaker second option; it simply answers a question this couple did not ask.