Rain, Rings & Limoncello: An Intimate Amalfi Coast Wedding at Villa Silvana

Wedding at Villa Silvana/Amalfi Coast wedding photographer/Sorrento elopement/Intimate wedding in Sorrento/Villa Silvana Sorrento wedding

It started with rain.
Not the kind that ruins a day — the kind that turns it unforgettable.

By 2pm, Sorrento was soaked in a soft Mediterranean downpour. The kind of rain that smells like stone and sea. The kind that soaks into linen and lifts the perfume off lemon trees. And tucked inside a quiet suite at Villa Silvana, Chasity and Jordan were getting ready. Together.

No separate rooms. No staged first look. Just two people sharing chocolate cake, sipping limoncello spritz, and laughing like the sky hadn’t just rewritten their script. This wasn’t about perfection. It was about presence.

And that — that made all the difference.

Let’s rewind for a second.

It was September 2024. The cliffs of Mallorca were honey-colored and still, and Jordan had something tucked in his pocket besides plane tickets. With the ocean behind them and a secret in his chest, he asked.

And Chasity said yes — in a moment so simple, so beautiful, it needed no frills. Just them. A promise. And a photographer hiding in the wings to catch it all before the wind carried it away.

It’s always been like this for them. Years of love, one perfect moment. And when it came time to plan a wedding, they didn’t want a ballroom or a guest list longer than a wine menu.

They wanted Italy. They wanted real.
So they chose Sorrento — and the Villa Silvana.

Villa Silvana is the kind of place that feels like a sigh. Overlooking the sea with Mount Vesuvius in the distance, it wraps around you like old lace — delicate, storied, timeless. There are palms that bend in the breeze and garden paths that lead nowhere in particular, and that’s the point. It’s a place meant for lingering.

At 5pm, I arrived to begin photographing the details — her Jewel Badgley Mischka shoes, the teal velvet ring box (a nod to the sea), and that dress. From Vow’d Weddings in Knoxville, TN, it was everything Chasity had hoped for: chic, timeless, and just a little fun. A cat-eye neckline, pockets (yes, pockets!), and a soft veil she wore only for the photos — like a secret she chose when the mood was right.

They got ready together. No fuss. No fanfare. Just a quiet morning turned afternoon, turned golden-lit almost-evening.

By 5:45, the rain still hadn’t stopped. But they walked hand-in-hand down to the villa’s private ocean-view terrace, where Giuseppe Terrecuso’s flowers waited — moody pinks, dusky peaches, deep mauves — like brushstrokes against the white of the arch and the gray-blue of the sky.

They exchanged vows on their own terms. No officiant. No timeline. Just a self-led ceremony where the air was thick with salt and feeling. And when they slipped the rings on, I swear even the sea went still for a second.

Rain be damned.
This was magic.

After the ceremony, we stayed in the gardens of Villa Silvana. The rain eased but didn’t quit. Chasity held her bouquet like it was the final scene of an old Italian film, and Jordan — soaked shoes and all — kissed her like no one was watching.

We wandered. Slowly. No pressure. The wet stone glistened. The florals looked even more vivid under the gray sky. The Mediterranean shimmered in the background like a painted set. And the photos? They weren’t posed — they were proof.Of joy. Of presence. Of choosing to dance even when the sky forgets the sun.

By 7:30, we were ready to head to Grand Hotel Ambasciatori, just an 8-minute walk uphill. But the rain had turned the path slick, and taxis were nowhere to be found. Chasity’s train dragged behind her like a poem. Her heels were daring to rebel. And still, she smiled.

And then — a moment I’ll never forget — the portier from Villa Silvana appeared. With a golf cart.

So there we were. Veil and suit and bouquet and camera, bumping along rain-slicked cobblestones in a golf cart like teenagers on a runaway adventure. We laughed the whole way.

Moments like that? You can’t plan them. You can only live them.

At the Ambasciatori, we reached their private suite. A balcony that felt like it belonged in a dream: candlelit, sea-facing, completely theirs.

They signed their marriage certificate by candlelight. Shared a toast. Cut into a berry chantilly cake provided by the hotel — small, beautiful, perfect. Champagne bubbles rose like prayers. The sky darkened to indigo. And we sat there, the three of us, talking about everything — life, travel, food, Italy.

No pressure to shoot. No rush to pose.
Just stories. Presence. And the kind of conversation that lingers long after you close the door.

When Chasity told me she was inspired by Milly Bobby Brown’s wedding, I knew exactly what she meant. This wasn’t a Pinterest board of peonies and rules — it was Italian Garden Chic, but with a soul.

They kept it simple. No bridal party. No DJ. No stiff traditions.

Just:

• Dark florals that popped against the villa’s whitewashed walls and lush green backdrop
• A teal ring box that matched the sea
• A mood — moody, elegant, relaxed, and just a little undone (because perfection is a joy thief)

Every detail was a reflection of who they are — not what they were expected to be.

Because it wasn’t about what looked good online.

It was about what felt right in their bones.
It was about getting ready together, eating cake before vows, walking in the rain, and saying yes anyway.

It was about a wedding that didn’t ask to be seen by the world — just felt by the two people who lived it.

And for me? That’s where the real stories live.

Here’s what Chasity & Jordan’s day teaches us:

• Don’t fear the rain — it might be the most romantic part.
• Choose a space that breathes with you — like Villa Silvana.
• Let go of the script — the best moments aren’t on timelines.
• Keep it simple, but intentional — moody florals, pockets in your dress, teal details that mirror the sea.
• Be together — from the very beginning of the day, if that’s what feels right.
• Say “yes” to golf carts, toast delays, and chocolate cake before vows.

Because love — the kind that lasts — isn’t about planning every detail.
It’s about showing up. With wet hair and full hearts. And saying yes. Again and again and again.

If this is what you’re dreaming of — a wedding that feels like art, a day that breathes like a love letter, a story that’s raw and rich and rain-kissed — I’d love to be your photographer.

I won’t direct you.
I’ll witness you.
And I’ll make art from the way your story unfolds — unposed, undone, unforgettable.

Wherever you go — Sorrento, Marrakech, the French countryside — I’ll meet you there, camera in hand, heart wide open.

Because the best stories don’t follow a script.
They follow the feeling.