The chapel from the hilltop — worth every single degree.

Real Wedding · Austin, Texas

We Got Married at Chapel Dulcinea in August (Yes, the Hottest Month in Texas. Yes, I'd Do It Again.)

The first thing everybody asks when I say we got married outside in Austin in August is... why.

Fair. It was 98 degrees. The air felt like someone had opened an oven. My hair had completely given up on me by the time we walked down the aisle, and I had a baby in the wedding party whose patience for photos lasted maybe six minutes total.

And I would do the whole day exactly the same. Every sweaty, laughing, chaotic minute of it.

Why Chapel Dulcinea

We're a blended family — between the two of us, that's four kids and a whole lot of life already underway. Neither of us wanted the big production. No 200-person guest list, no $8,000 venue, no twelve months of spreadsheets. We wanted something simple, something pretty, and something that actually felt like us.

A friend mentioned Chapel Dulcinea, a free wedding venue, about twenty minutes southwest of downtown Austin. It's an open-air stone chapel sitting on a hilltop, looking out over the Hill Country. Spanish mission style, stucco walls, old arched wooden doors, lanterns hanging everywhere, and a stone floor that looks like it's been there forever. And the views — green hills stretching out as far as you can see. It feels like someone dropped a little piece of Tuscany in the middle of Texas.

It's also free to use during the week, which I genuinely did not believe until I read it twice. We picked a weekday morning, kept the group tiny, and that was it. No drama.

The one catch, obviously: it's open-air. No walls, no AC. In August, that means you're getting married in the Texas heat whether you're ready or not. (Spoiler: the dress is what saved me. More on that in a minute.)

Those arched wooden doors. I'd get married in front of them all over again.

The Dress (the Part I Was Most Stressed About)

Here's the honest truth: I did not set foot in a single bridal shop.

I know. I know. Every wedding movie tells you that's the whole point — the big mirrors, the clips, the consultant zipping you into ten gowns while you cry. But I'm not that girl, and honestly, the markup in those places makes me break out in hives worse than the August heat did. I started browsing affordable wedding dresses online at ANNAKOO.

I found V-neck trumpet wedding dress with slit and ordered it in white, size 12. A few things to know, because I learned them the hard way.

This isn't typical bridal sizing. I sized up by one from what I normally wear, and the sizing chart on the site was spot on — so if you're about to order, trust the chart, not the number in your closet. I almost talked myself into my usual size and I'm so glad I didn't.

Size 12, tattoos out, zero apologies.

The dress itself is a V-neck, sleeveless, fitted through the bodice and hips, and then it flares just enough at the bottom. The shape is a fit-and-flare — what they list under trumpet mermaid wedding dresses with slit. There's a slit up one leg, which I was nervous about until I put it on and realized it's exactly why the dress is so comfortable. You can actually walk. You can sit. You can climb around on stone benches for photos without feeling like you're in a straightjacket.

The slit I was nervous about — and the reason I could actually walk.

The fabric has great stretch to it and it's breathable — and I don't mean "breathable" in the marketing sense where you still sweat through it. I'd been nervous about ordering white satin wedding dresses online without touching anything first, but I wore it outside, in Texas, in August, for hours, and I wasn't a disaster. It held its shape, it didn't wrinkle into a mess, and it has a real weight to it. It feels expensive. It doesn't feel cheap or flimsy at all.

Breathable fabric, 98 degrees, somehow still put-together.

I kept the accessories simple: a thin necklace, small earrings, and — my favorite little detail — a pearl anklet on the leg with the slit, with white block-heel sandals. The slit is high enough that you catch little glimpses of it in photos. I have tattoos down my arm and one on my ankle, and I wasn't about to cover any of it up. This dress let me look like a bride and still look like me, which is the nicest thing I can say about any piece of clothing.

Still me. Just the wedding version.

The Wedding Party Was Mostly Children, and It Was Perfect

My husband wore a dusty rose blazer, light pink trousers, a white T-shirt, and clean white sneakers. He looked so good. I'm not saying that because I'm biased. I'm saying it because I have the photos to prove it.

The whole crew. All six of us.

The boys were in white button-downs, pink bow ties, little suspenders, khaki pants, and white sneakers to match. Our daughter wore a black floral dress with black heels, and the baby was in pink with a bow and her pacifier, which she refused to take out for a single photo. We did not fight her on this. Pick your battles.

Family photos with four kids are never going to look like a magazine spread, and thank goodness, because ours are better. One of the boys spent the whole shoot posing on the stone bench like he was auditioning for a modeling contract. The baby sat on her brother's lap on the stone floor and mostly stared at the camera like she was questioning all of our life choices. The teen rolled her eyes exactly zero times, which I'm calling a miracle.

Her patience for photos: about six minutes. We used them wisely.

The Day Itself

The morning was already hot and bright. The chapel was glowing — all that warm stone, the lanterns, the arched door right behind us, and the hills green and hazy through the openings.

I carried a bouquet of bright orange, yellow, coral, and white flowers with eucalyptus. I wanted color, something that popped against the white dress and the neutral stone. It was a little wild, not too structured, and I loved it.

Wild, bright, a little unruly — the bouquet matched the day.

Orange and coral against all that warm stone.

We kept the ceremony short (again: August, open air, small children). The whole thing was maybe fifteen minutes. I barely remember the words, to be honest. I remember him looking at me. I remember the kids shifting around. I remember the warm air and the wind and thinking, okay, this is the part where I'm supposed to be nervous, and I just wasn't.

Afterward, someone handed us the actual marriage certificate — the State of Texas, gold seal, all of it — and we absolutely lost it. There's a photo of me with my mouth wide open like I can't believe it worked, and him laughing so hard he can't keep his eyes open, and my dress is kicked up behind me and the certificate is tilted sideways. It's my favorite picture from the whole day. We look like two people who just got away with something.

We wandered the chapel for photos after that — me leaning against the stucco columns, the two of us in the archway, the kids climbing on the stone benches. The dress moved with me the whole time. When I kicked my leg up for a photo, the skirt came right with me and fell exactly how it should. No ripping, no sticking, no holding my breath.

"We look like two people who just got away with something."

Kicked the leg up. The dress came right with me.

My Honest Review

If You're Planning Your Own Chapel Dulcinea Wedding

A few things I'd tell you, having actually survived it:

✦ Go early. We did a morning ceremony and I'd do 8 a.m. again before I'd do 4 p.m. The light is soft, the heat is at least a little more forgiving, and the stone looks golden.

✦ Bring water. More than you think. Blotting papers too. And maybe a handheld fan for whoever is holding the baby.

✦ Because it's open-air, your outfit has to actually work in real weather. This is the single biggest reason I'm glad I shopped comfortable wedding dresses for summer instead of a heavy satin ballgown. I would have melted.

✦ Trust the size chart. I say this twice because it's that important.

✦ Let the kids be kids in the photos. The posed ones are nice. The ones where someone is making a weird face are the ones you'll actually frame.

The Part Where I Wrap This Up

We didn't spend a fortune. We didn't have a DJ or a five-course dinner or a cake that cost more than my first car. We had a stone chapel on a hill, six people who love each other, a pink suit, a baby with a pacifier, and a dress that made me feel like the best version of myself.

That was enough. It was more than enough.

If you're on the fence about ordering your dress online, or about the little outdoor chapel, or about doing the whole thing your own way instead of the way everyone expects — this is your sign. August heat and all.

— Ashley