A hand-drawn wavy border and a pair of rings, in a clear carmine on blush white.
Rings is drawn by hand and it shows on purpose. The border is a wave with the wobble left in — not a shape a computer would produce — and it runs round the pieces that are read rather than handled: the invitation, the save the date, the details card, the number on the table, the welcome sign. The rings themselves head the invitation and the two large sheets, and everything else is left open.
Two hands rather than one. The couple's names, the piece's own word and the table numeral are set in a round, confident script; the rows inside a list — the courses on a menu, the hours in a running order — are a lighter, quicker hand, so a menu of six courses reads as a list under a heading rather than as six headings. The small labels are plain letterspaced caps, which is what keeps a card of handwriting from turning into texture.
It is the same suite of thirteen pieces as the rest of the shop — save the date, invitation, reply card, details, running order, menu, place cards, table numbers, belly band, favor tag, an 18×24 seating chart, a welcome sign and a thank-you — printed as one family so nothing on the day looks borrowed. Carmine is the loudest of the four and the least formal: it reads as a party rather than a ceremony, and on a blush white it stays the right side of festive.
The loudest of the four: a clear carmine, and no apology for it.