Not the posed version of your wedding. Not the beige one. Not the one where everyone stands in the right place and smiles on cue.

The one where your father holds it together until, suddenly, he doesn't. Where the friends who haven't seen each other in two years can't stop talking. Where the naughty table does exactly what the naughty table always does, three feet from the speeches, completely unrepentant. Where the band makes the room and the champagne never quite runs out.

Twenty-one years of photojournalism taught me to read a room, find the story before it moves on, and be in exactly the right place without anyone noticing. At a wedding that means watching the people, not the running order. And occasionally, when I can see something worth making more of, I'll offer a thought. Not an instruction. More like a recommendation from someone who can already see what the camera is about to do with this.

The result doesn't look like a wedding photograph. It looks like a still from the best film you never saw, shot at the party of the year.