Why This Quiet Oaxaca Destination Wedding Skipped the Parades and Mexican Traditions

Not every wedding in Oaxaca has to include a calenda, fireworks, or a 300-person guest list. If you’ve searched for Oaxaca destination wedding inspiration, you’ve probably seen the big stuff—giant puppets, brass bands, ornate Mexican traditions. But what if you just want to keep it simple? No noise. No rented hacienda with strangers hanging string lights for six hours.

That’s exactly what my clients wanted. They didn’t come here for the spectacle. They came because Oaxaca felt right—like it always had something waiting for them. They got legally married at the Beverly Hills Courthouse. Quietly. No champagne. No Instagram story. Just them and a witness. This trip was for the part that mattered. A week long destination elopement with ten of their favorite people, a Mezcal tour the day before with slow laughs and no schedule, and the kind of wedding that didn’t feel like a wedding at all. Just a moment they wanted to remember. A pause.

This wedding was featured in The White Wren, a wedding editorial known for its minimalist and meaningful approach. One of their portraits was also selected for a feature in Nikon Owner Magazine—a small nod to the kind of work that speaks quietly but lasts. Both features are linked on my press page. But honestly, the couple didn’t care about that—because that was never the point. They were just glad it felt like them.

Oaxaca: A City Built for Simple Weddings

Oaxaca doesn’t need much. The colors are already on the walls. The cobblestone does half the storytelling. You walk around and realize—this is what so many destination-themed weddings try to recreate with décor. My clients didn’t try to compete. They let the city do the heavy lifting.

We met in Oaxaca Centro by Santo Domingo in front of the Jardín Etnobotánico late Wednesday morning, bright midday sun, two people in love, and no agenda. We wandered through the streets they’d explored the day before, even stopping by a few familiar backdrops from Nacho Libre—because why not? She wore a simple two-piece white linen dress she found at a local shop. The bouquet? A handful of flowers pulled from a bucket at Mercado Benito Juárez.

Why Wednesday? I recommend taking photos in Oaxaca Centro on Wednesdays—because of Miércoles sin ambulantes, a city initiative that clears out street vendors from the historic center once a week. The streets are cleaner, quieter, and easier to navigate without the usual chaos.

A Symbolic Ceremony and a Dinner That Felt Like Home

Later, there was something like a ceremony. No aisle. No chairs. Their friend said a few words in front of the dinner table, holding a glass of Mezcal. It was short, a little funny, and the kind of emotional that doesn’t try too hard. They exchanged vows in front of the people who mattered most—no microphones, no staging.

Dinner came after. A small, private reception at Criollo—nothing fancy, just good food and the people who mattered. Family-style plates, two hours of toasts, and no speeches that felt like performances. There were no hashtags, no gatekeeping wedding planner, no pressure to impress. Just connection. And Oaxaca in the background, doing what it always does—showing up without needing to show off.

The Aftertaste of a Quiet Oaxaca Wedding

There’s a certain kind of couple that ends up in Oaxaca. The ones who care more about how it feels than how it looks. And that shows in the way my clients keep it small, real, and grounded. They didn’t do welcome bags. No printed menus or seating charts. They booked an Airbnb and kept it moving. I suppose that's the magic of simplicity—and of documentary-style 35mm film photography that doesn’t interfere with the moment. Quiet, meaningful, unforgettable—not because it was loud, but because it wasn’t. Like the perfume called Wedding in Oaxaca. Notes of Mezcal, warm wood, crushed flowers. It smells like the aftertaste of a night like this one—intimate, fleeting, and hard to explain.