After each wedding, I eagerly anticipate pouring through the rolls of film that were shot. It’s a little bit like Christmas morning when Larry comes back from the lab with the bag of photo booty. I especially love to see what he photographed in the groom’s dressing room. That part of the wedding day is Larry’s domain, no girl photographers allowed and I have to admit, I’m more than a little envious that I am off limits. It’s not for any prurient reasons that I want to be present; it’s just that there are usually so many quirky, hysterically adorable things going on. As kooky as it can get, there always seem to be three common elements: the consumption of a really large sandwich, a ball game playing on a massive television, and the groom or groomsmen struggling to put on their bowties.

The energy seems so different from the bride’s dressing room. Instead of the controlled chaos of several girls vying for the makeup chair while nibbling on fruit salad and bemoaning having to wear Spanx, the guys seem to be really relaxed. It’s as if putting on a tux and seeing one of your best friends getting married is as familiar as getting together for Monday night football.

Maybe one day, I’ll get the chance to photograph the gentlemen getting ready, but my guess is the reason they appear so unguarded is because Larry, being one of their own, puts them at ease and allows all of their zany goodness to shine through.