Mike and Hannah here! We’re 100 days away until we tie the knot, and we are looking forward to seeing all of our friends and loved ones who we don’t recognize but pretend to know for the sake of our mother together to celebrate.
To us, this union means more than just the next step in the rest of our lives—it means requesting that every single attendee, no matter the relation, gift us a wildly niche kitchen appliance that we will never, ever use. So please, be sure to RSVP and check out our registry so that we can turn our one-bedroom apartment into a home—a home with a lot of useless kitchen shit!
When we envision our future together, we can’t see it unless the $175 egg separator we picked out in Crate & Barrel is there with us. For us, marriage is a gift from God, and also a gift of a $250 knife sharpener from Target. In our married life, we will stand by each other through thick and thin, always with our $399.99 pasta maker from Amazon by our side.
Which is why we are asking: please, no gifts that are not specifically kitchen shit listed on our registry. Family heirlooms, Nanna’s fine china, gift cards, bonds, and hard, cold, cash are all very thoughtful gifts. However, we prefer the wildly overpriced kitchen tools influencers we follow use, but only because they’re paid in brand deals and they actually just eat Sweetgreen every day. We chose each other to spend the rest of our lives with, and we also chose this useless kitchen junk that will be on this crazy ride called life with us.
You may be surprised regarding our requests for all this impractical, cheaply-made, highly-priced kitchen shit. You might ask yourself, what will a couple who never cooks ever and spends an average of $300 on Postmates a week do with a salad spinner? Why does the couple who never brings anything aside from a 12-pack of Bud Light to a potluck need to own a 12-piece set of ravioli stamps? Is there a reason that Mike and Hannah, who put all their pots and pans they never use in the oven they also never use, need not one, not two, but six different sets of pot and pan organizers?
Because marriage changes a person. Ever since we became engaged, suddenly we have this overwhelming biological urge to host people in our home. We are dying to have people over for a dinner party at our table that can only seat three people. We don’t have any couple friends because we only hang out with each other, but we know that this is a thing married couples do because we saw it on TV. We’re certain when we do make friends, they’re going to be impressed with our chocolate fondue machine that we’ll be gifted with but won’t take the time to learn how to use.
We just really want to be the house where everyone can gather on holidays. We definitely won’t be making Mee-Maw (the alive grandma) in her 90s struggling to serve the twenty-pound bird because we still don’t know how to cook. This is exactly what having useless kitchen shit is all about.
We assure you of this: we put a lot of thought into what useless kitchen shit to pick for our registry. The only things on our mind was what we were for sure going to use in the future, like an ice cream maker instead of creating a home down payment fund. We’ve never been so sure how important it was for us to have a sushi maker roller machine on hand to immediately forget about after we receive it.
By the way, we want two of those because we’re extra confident at this moment we’ll need two of them to disregard just in case.
Everything you see on this website represents the kitchen of our unrealistic dreams. We really want to make sure we’re taking advantage of your kindness and we’ll be sure to write back in our extremely vague, copy-and-pasted thank you note how grateful we were for your gift.
Thank you so much for joining us on this special day to commemorate our love for each other and the most useless kitchen shit possible. It means the world to us that you’ve decided to let us destroy your entire weekend so you can party with us, a couple you barely know. We promise we’ll be so grateful for the gifts. So grateful that we already know exactly where to put it—in our parents’ basement because our one-bedroom apartment kitchen isn’t big enough for all of that.
By the way, there will be no open bar at our dream wedding. We can’t wait to celebrate with you!
Love,
Mike and Hannah