How to Elope in Paris: A Boston Photographer’s Guide

The last photo I made on the day Ashley and Danny chose to elope in Paris is the two of them sitting on a curb on a quiet street in their wedding clothes, passing a pizza box back and forth, her dress spilling out across the pavement. Nobody told them to sit down. They were tired and happy and hungry, which is exactly what the end of a good wedding day looks like in any city on earth.

That is the part nobody puts in the planning articles.

So before I get to the legal stuff and the locations and what it all costs, I want to walk you through their entire day, hour by hour, because it is the best answer I have to the question of how to elope in Paris. Everything practical is further down, I promise. Start here.

Their morning started with two people writing vows at the same table

Danny went first. Blue shirt, sleeves rolled, sitting at a little round table by an open window with the Paris rooftops right behind him, working on what he was going to say. There were flowers on the table and a glass of red wine next to his notebook, because we were in France and the rules are different.

Ashley was down the hall doing her own hair.

Later she took the same chair at the same table with her own book and wrote hers.

Danny wore socks that said I LOVE YOU under his suit, all day, where nobody could see them.

Getting ready together

Her dress hung in the window frame all morning with the Paris street behind it, which is the kind of shot you cannot set up and cannot buy. You just need an apartment with tall windows and a morning with nothing scheduled in it.

Then came the part I love most about a small day like this. They got each other ready: the dress, the boutonniere, his tie, her necklace. It is a quiet half hour that a big wedding day almost never leaves room for, and it is usually where the best photos are.

No bridal suite, no separate rooms, no hair and makeup team, nobody calling out a schedule. Just the two of them in a rented apartment.

Then we walked out the front door and Paris started

This is the thing about choosing to elope in Paris that surprises people. You do not drive to a venue. You open your own front door already dressed, and the day begins on the sidewalk.

We wandered. They held hands past a cafe with a red awning and she looked back over her shoulder at me. They crossed at a crosswalk with the whole street watching, which everyone in Paris is extremely relaxed about, a bride in a wedding dress being roughly the fourth most interesting thing happening on that block.

We went to Trocadéro for the head-on view of the tower, then hired a tuk-tuk for part of the afternoon. That is my favorite run of photos from the entire trip: the two of them in the back seat in sunglasses, her head on his shoulder, her bouquet in her lap, Paris going by.

The vows: an Eiffel Tower ceremony with nobody watching

We ended up on a long gravel path in a park with trees down both sides and the Eiffel Tower standing at the end of it. That was the ceremony. No aisle, no chairs, no guests. A photographer, two microphones, and a Super 8 camera.

He read first, holding his notes in one hand and her hand in the other. She cried a little and then laughed with her head tipped all the way back, which is the single best photo I made that day. Then she read hers and he stood there grinning at her like an idiot, in the good way.

They put the rings on. He kissed her. Then he picked her straight up off the ground with her dress swinging out behind them and the tower right there over his shoulder.

I call it a commitment ceremony, because legally that is what it was. They were already married. It carried no paperwork and all of the meaning, and I have the whole thing on film with their real voices over the grain.

If you elope in Paris and do exactly one thing on purpose, make it this. Find a patch of grass with the tower in it and say the words out loud to each other.

Champagne, a cheese plate, and a very good afternoon

Afterward we sat down at a cafe under a red awning on a busy street and they had champagne and a cheese plate while people ate lunch around them and mostly did not care. Have I mentioned that French food is FANTASTIC? I will mention it again later.

Every couple I take to elope in Paris has to be talked into this part, and every single one of them brings it up afterward. The cafe stop is not a break from the elopement. The cafe stop is the elopement.

The Seine, a love lock, and the moment the tower lights up

We spent the golden part of the day walking along the river. They leaned on the stone wall with the tower behind them. She held her bouquet against the white of her dress and I got one frame of just that, and one of the necklace with their initials on it.

On a footbridge over the water they clipped a lock onto the railing together and both of them laughed at how corny it was while they did it, which is why that photo works.

Then they sat down on the boards of the bridge in their wedding clothes with their feet out in front of them and waited, and the Eiffel Tower turned gold, and then it started to sparkle, and neither of them said anything for a minute. If you only take one thing from this entire guide on how to elope in Paris, take this: leave a gap in the plan right around dusk and do not fill it with anything.

After dark is the best time to elope in Paris

Most wedding days end at dusk, and most couples who elope in Paris have the cameras packed away by dinner. Theirs kept going.

We walked to the Louvre and had the courtyard almost to ourselves, the pyramid lit up gold and the whole place empty in a way it never is during the day. He dipped her. She put a hand on his face and kissed him and I made the closest, quietest photo of the night. She swung her dress around under the glass. They stood up on a stone block in front of the little arch at the Carrousel and held on to each other.

At some point they both put their sunglasses on. At night. In their wedding clothes. I have no explanation and I love it.

And then, eventually, the curb and the pizza.

The morning after you elope in Paris

We met up again the next day in jeans and t-shirts and went into the Louvre like normal tourists. Mona Lisa, the enormous staircases, the ceilings. Then the Tuileries with the ferris wheel behind them.

I always try to get a second, quieter session on a destination trip if there is time, because the two of you in your regular clothes in a city you just got married in is its own kind of photo, and it looks like the actual beginning of the marriage instead of the end of the wedding.

That is their day, start to finish. Here is how you get one.

Can Americans actually get married in Paris?

Legally? Technically, yes. Practically? Almost nobody does.

To have a legally binding wedding in France, at least one of you has to prove you have lived continuously in the specific district where you want to marry, usually for a month or more before the paperwork goes in. On top of that you need an apostilled birth certificate, sworn French translations of everything, proof of your address in that district, a signed statement that you are free to marry (the US Embassy in France will not issue one for you, you sign your own), and the ceremony itself has to happen at the mairie, the local town hall, with a French civil official. Not in a park. Not by the Eiffel Tower. At a desk.

So unless you are moving to Paris, the answer for nearly every American couple is the same: do the legal part at home, then elope in Paris for the part you will actually remember.

How to elope in Paris the easy way: legally married in Boston, vows in Paris

This is where being a photographer who is also an ordained officiant comes in handy!

Here is how it worked for Ashley and Danny. Before the trip, I married them in their apartment. Just the three of us and their cats. Ten minutes, a marriage license from their town clerk, a couple of signatures, and boom: legally, officially married in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Then we all got on a plane.

As a result, in Paris none of us had to think about paperwork for one second. The whole trip was theirs.

If you are in Massachusetts, the legal side is simple:

1. Apply for a marriage license together at any city or town clerk’s office in the state (it does not have to be where you live).
2. Wait out the three-day waiting period, or ask a judge to waive it if you are in a hurry.
3. Pick a spot. Your apartment. The Public Garden. Your parents’ backyard. I show up, we do a short ceremony, I file the license, and you are married.
4. Fly to Paris and have the day you have been dreaming about.

Every one of my elopement collections includes officiating, so the legal ceremony at home does not cost you anything extra. You get one vendor for the whole thing: legally married here, photographed there.

Where to say your vows when you elope in Paris

You do not need a venue. Paris is the venue. A few of my favorite spots, roughly from most iconic to most low-key:

Trocadéro and the gardens below it. The classic head-on Eiffel Tower view. It is the most photographed spot in the city for a reason. Even better, at sunrise it is nearly empty.

The parks and quiet corners around the tower. This is where Ashley and Danny read their vows. Step a few blocks away from the main viewpoints and you can find a bench, a bit of lawn, and the tower through the trees, without an audience.

The Seine. The quays, the bridges, the river walk. Pont Alexandre III and Bir-Hakeim are the famous ones, but honestly any stretch along the water works, and you can walk between them. Pick a footbridge for your lock.

The Louvre courtyard. The glass pyramid and the palace around it. Go at night if you can. A few spots like this technically ask professional shoots for permission, so we treat it as a quick, handheld stop rather than a production, which is the move there anyway.

Palais Royal. The striped columns and the tree-lined garden right behind the Louvre. Elegant, calm, and a two-minute walk from the crowds.

Montmartre. Cobblestone streets, the steps below Sacré-Cœur, and the best cafe-hopping in the city. Best for the wander-and-see-what-happens part of the day.

Île Saint-Louis. The little island in the middle of the Seine. Quiet streets, old stone, and views of Notre-Dame across the water.

If you want a roof with a view, a garden you can book, or a boat on the Seine, those exist as well, and I am happy to help you find one. But you truly do not need any of it.

When to elope in Paris

Season. Late spring (April to June) and early fall (September and October) are the sweet spots: mild weather, long-ish days, and the summer tourist crush has not started or has just ended. Meanwhile, winter Paris is moody and beautiful and much cheaper, if you are okay with gray skies and a coat in your photos.

Time of day. You have two good options and they are opposites.

Sunrise gets you an empty city. A 6:30 am start at the Eiffel Tower means soft light and almost nobody in your frame, and by the time the crowds arrive you are already at a cafe with a croissant.

Or you do what Ashley and Danny did and start late, which trades the quiet for something else: the cafe is open, the champagne is cold, the tower lights up while you are sitting in front of it, and the Louvre courtyard empties out and belongs to you. There are more people in the daytime frames. There is also a whole night in them.

Day of the week. Weekdays over weekends, especially at the landmarks.

What a day looks like when you elope in Paris

This is Ashley and Danny’s actual timeline, which is the one I would build for you unless you tell me you want the sunrise version:

• Late morning. Vows written, hair and makeup, getting dressed together at the apartment. Slow. Coffee involved.
• Early afternoon. Out the front door. Streets, crosswalks, the first cafe you walk past.
• Mid afternoon. Trocadéro for the head-on view, then wander toward the tower. Grab a tuk-tuk if you want to cover ground and enjoy yourselves doing it.
• Late afternoon. Vows in a park near the Eiffel Tower, mic’d and on Super 8.
• Early evening. Sit down. Champagne, a cheese plate, an hour where nobody takes a picture of anything.
• Dusk. The Seine. A lock on a bridge. Be sitting somewhere with a view when the tower lights.
• After dark. The Louvre courtyard and the pyramid, lit and nearly empty.
• Late. Dinner, or a pizza on a curb. Both count.
• Next morning, optional. Jeans, t-shirts, and the city again as yourselves.

Of course, swap any of it. Cut it in half. Add a boat. It is your day.

What it costs to elope in Paris

Let’s talk numbers, because everyone wants to and nobody wants to ask.

Photography and officiating. My elopement collections start at $1,800 and include officiating, so that covers the legal ceremony in Massachusetts. For the Paris part, international travel starts at $4,000, with a custom quote based on the length of the trip and how many days of coverage you want. Super 8 film is an add-on at $1,000 per hour, and if you want your vows on film the way Ashley and Danny have theirs, that is the piece that makes it happen.

The trip itself. Flights from Boston, a few nights in a hotel or apartment, meals, and whatever you want to splurge on. In other words, no venue rental, no catering minimum, no florist deposit, no 150-person guest list. Most couples I talk to spend far less on a Paris elopement than they would on a Saturday wedding at home, and they come back with a honeymoon built in.

Legal paperwork. A Massachusetts marriage license is about $50, depending on the town.

Why I bring Super 8 and a microphone

Photos are my whole life, but the thing couples ask to see again and again from that trip is not a photo. It is the Super 8 film of Ashley and Danny reading their vows on that gravel path, with their actual voices over the grain and the flicker.

When you elope, there is no videographer, no DJ with a recording, no cousin with a phone. If you do not capture the vows, they are gone. So for destination elopements I bring a Super 8 camera and a little wireless mic, and you get a short film that looks like 1972 and sounds like yesterday. It is my favorite thing I make.

A few honest tips

Pack for walking. A day like this is miles on foot, on cobblestones. So: comfortable shoes for the walking parts, and the pretty ones for the photos. Ashley wore boots under her dress the entire day and they show up in half the pictures, on purpose.

Eat. Build the cafe stops into the plan. They are not breaks from the elopement, they are the elopement. Also, the food is FANTASTIC. I told you I would mention it again.

Don’t overschedule. In my experience, two or three spots plus a lot of wandering beats eight spots and a stopwatch every time.

Leave the night open. The best hour of Ashley and Danny’s day happened after most wedding days are over.

Skip the legal fight. I cannot say it enough. Get married at home, say your vows in Paris, and spend the energy you saved on a second bottle of champagne.

Bring your people, or don’t. Eloping does not have to mean the two of you alone. Parents, a best friend, your sister with the camera. Or just you two and a photographer who is also your officiant and, by day three, your friend.

Paris elopement FAQs

Ready to run around Paris?

If you have been quietly googling “how to elope in Paris” at 11 pm, this is your sign. Tell me your dates and we will figure out the rest: the legal part here, the beautiful part there, a cheese plate somewhere in the middle, and a pizza on a curb at the end of it.

And if Paris is not in the cards yet, the same idea works closer to home. Here are my ten favorite places to elope in and around Boston, and my guide to getting married on Cape Cod.

Dreaming of something closer to home? Here is where to elope in New England, spot by spot.

xo erin