Andrew Perlman and Mary Louise Platt
Engaged: Feb. 24, 2004
Projected Wedding Date: Oct. 10, 2004
Feel the vibration: Mary Louise Platt, 26, half of the electronic-rock band Spalding Rockwell, is marrying Andrew Perlman, 26, managing director at WFX, a mobile-phone marketing company that has worked with Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake (though not at the same time).
They first dated as seniors in high school, for about four weeks, after meeting through a friend on the corner of 81st and Lexington. She was a Brearley bluestocking. He attended the exotically suburban Scarsdale High. “I remember he was so dashing and handsome-and he had this puffy Polo jacket,” said Ms. Platt, a 5-foot-9 sultry beauty whom her beloved compared to “Angelina Jolie, but with better eyes.” The tall, dark-haired Mr. Perlman’s ego was apparently as inflated as his parka: When he went on a spring ski trip to Aspen, Colo., he failed to call her. “I think I felt like I didn’t have to,” he said. He was dumped shortly after his return.
Ms. Platt matriculated at Johns Hopkins, but dropped out after two years. “I needed to get out of the classroom and have more life experiences,” she said. She founded Spalding Rockwell with Nicole Lombardi, a brunette alum of the Hun School, in 1999. “We picked the name because it sounds so WASP-y, which references both me and Nicole’s private-school education,” Ms. Platt said, “but we also liked it because it didn’t have any previous associations.” The two gals are currently featured in a Ben Sherman ad campaign displayed at the Soho Bloomie’s.
Mr. Perlman, who had attended George Washington University, was reunited with Ms. Platt in 2002, at a mutual friend’s Thanksgiving party on East 89th Street. “We were just so comfortable with one another from the second we started talking,” he said.
“I’ve never found it so easy to connect with someone,” she agreed.
Six weeks later, Ms. Platt moved out of her mom’s place in Bronxville and into Mr. Perlman’s studio in the financial district. He accompanied her to gigs at Lit Lounge and Crobar, crowing with pride when the band’s song “Hear My Name,” with D.J. producer Armand Van Helden, hit No. 1 on MTV Germany. The couple also enjoys staying home to watch their favorite TV program, 60 Minutes -now that’s rock ‘n’ roll living!
One evening, Ms. Platt was readying herself to fly to London for a video shoot, in which the girls are dressed up sexily for high tea and spank naughty Englishmen.
“I don’t want to leave,” she told her sweetie.
Mr. Perlman whipped out a box. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I got you this,” he said. Inside was a single round-cut diamond set in a platinum band.
“I did what any self-respecting New York Jew would do and went down to the diamond district and picked out the one that looked brightest,” he told The Love Beat.
Ms. Platt is currently taking Judaism-conversion classes and has secured a wedding gown for $250 on eBay. The couple has relocated to a one-bedroom on Avenue B and is planning a celebration for 150 people at the Quaker Ridge Golf Club in Scarsdale, N.Y. “You start out wanting to do something avant-garde,” said the bride, “and it just gets too complicated.”
Julian Medina and Annie Sigal
Met: March 2002
Engaged: Feb. 13, 2004
Projected Wedding Date: Oct. 2, 2004
Eat, drink, man, woman! Julian Medina, the executive chef at Zócalo on the Upper East Side, is marrying Annie Sigal, a manager at the culinary publicity firm M. Young Communications. Both are 29.
Mr. Medina slipped a round diamond with two tapered baguettes into a flute of 1996 Cristal after Ms. Sigal got back from a preview dinner at Spice Market, further buttering her up with foie gras and Iranian caviar. She’ll wear a Nicole Miller gown to their ceremony at the Shaaray Tefila Temple on 79th Street, which will be followed by a small reception at Taste Restaurant & Wine Bar, featuring heirloom tomatoes from Zabar’s rooftop garden.
The couple met in sunny South Beach, Miami, after they were seated next to each other during dinner for six at Bond Street, a spin-off of the Noho sushi place. “The absolutely last thing I was looking for was to meet a guy,” said the petite, dark-haired Ms. Sigal, who’d just moved back into her parents’ apartment on 80th Street after a “shitty breakup” (is there any other kind?) in San Francisco.
Mr. Medina, a hot tamale from Mexico City with “clear green eyes and beautiful hands and this gorgeous round face,” as Ms. Sigal put it, had disentangled himself the previous year from a messy relationship. “Of course, I found her very physically attractive, too,” he said in an accent suggesting the hunky movie star Gael García Bernal.
The two of them talked for hours about shared heartache … and food. At the time, Mr. Medina was employed at Miami’s Sushi Samba Dromo, hungry to move north. “I wasn’t working in the food industry yet,” Ms. Sigal said, “but I’ve always been a crazy food person.” After four hours of tasty talk, they shared their first kiss by the pool of the Delano hotel. “It was a beautiful night,” she said. “Everything was perfect.”
“Magical,” echoed Mr. Medina. “I thought it was very special.”
Ms. Sigal returned to New York the next day, writing the whole thing off as a vacation fling, and was surprised when he called. “I don’t even remember giving him my phone number,” she said.
“I just didn’t want to leave it like that,” Mr. Medina said. “It’s not every day you meet fantastic people.”
They kept in touch, meeting for drinks at Maya when he came up for a few interviews and then back down in SoBe, where Ms. Sigal-who at this point had relocated from her parents’ place to the Lower East Side-was consoled by Mr. Medina after she lost her luggage. “They had stole a Prada purse or something-she was very upset,” he said.
“I know it sounds so cheesy, but when I saw him enter the room, our eyes met, and all of a sudden I found I was able to just take a deep breath,” she said.
After he got the gig at Zócalo, he moved into her apartment; they’ve since relocated to a place on 58th Street and First Avenue with a spacious kitchen. They take turns cooking for one another and adore trying new restaurants. “The most fun we have is criticizing other people’s food,” Ms. Sigal said.
Anthony Santorelli and Noelle Desiree Turini
Met: June 2001
Engaged: May 2, 2003
Projected Wedding Date: July 25, 2004
Darling, you send me: Noelle Turini and Anthony Santorelli met while working for an international messenger service based on 23rd Street and Sixth Avenue. She was a comely, petite legal assistant, and he, the boss’ hunky son, was in the business-development division. Though their little sisters knew each other from private school in Long Island, their paths had somehow never crossed before.
It was love at first sight, said Mr. Santorelli, who immediately began sticking his tongue at her across the room and prank-calling her on his work line. Oh my God, he’s really funny , Ms. Turini thought. But he’s going to get me fired .
Management moved her desk to the fifth floor, but that only heightened the thrill of their intra-office liaison.
On the day of the Sept. 11 terrorist attack, Mr. Santorelli came and picked Ms. Turini up, and they spent the day together at his parents’ place on Park Avenue. “He was really concerned with making sure I was O.K.,” she said. “That showed me a lot about who he was.”
After about a year, they both left the company: she to take a research assistant job at the N.Y.U. Child Study Center; he to become director of sales at Shecky’s, the poor man’s Zagat. Though the romance thrived, they maintained separate residences: she on the Upper East Side with roomies, he in the heart of the Village.
After some months of this old-fashioned courtship, they chose an engagement ring together from Bergdorf jeweler Nicholas Varney, the brother of a college friend of Mr. Santorelli’s. It’s a brick-like, bellissimo 4.1-carat emerald-cut diamond, seamlessly set along two trapezoids. Mr. Santorelli proposed at another of his parents’ residences, in Southampton, first scattering its entrance and stairwell with votive candles and some 30 dozen roses. He had Ms. Turini, who had a swollen leg from falling on a hole in the sidewalk, shipped out by car. When she called to herald her arrival, he stalled for time, asking her to go buy some milk.
After she completed the needless errand, Ms. Turini limped up the stairs of the house and found Mr. Santorelli surrounded by a spread of mussels and pasta from Il Mulino, with “Only Time” by Enya (yes, Enya) playing on the stereo.
The wedding will be held at John the Martyr Church on East 72nd Street, with a reception to follow at the Pleasantdale Chateau in West Orange, N.J. Ms. Turini will wear an antique-looking butter-colored A-line dress from Vera Wang Couture, and add three stackable platinum bands containing a total of 117 Siberian diamonds to her ring finger.
This New York love story has a strange twist: The couple has moved to Atlanta so that Ms. Turini can pursue a Ph.D. in clinical psychology at Georgia State. But all the shrinks are here ?! “I do everything how it’s supposed to be done. She isn’t like that. She does what she wants,” Mr. Santorelli said.
They have bought a French country-style three-bedroom house in the far-off hamlet of “Buckhead.”
“We love Manhattan,” Ms. Turini said, “but we also love suburbia.”