“I’ve been to too many weddings where I’ve thought, ‘I can’t believe I’ve been here since 11am and they’ve decided to do another speech,’” laughs Amy Storrs. “Willy and I wanted the opposite of that. We wanted people to feel like they were at the best party of their lives.”

In other words, exactly the sort of wedding you might expect from two music executives (the groom is William – or Willy – Hunt, who has also founded his own record label) whose paths first crossed at the soundcheck for a gig. “We met at what we think was a gig at the Ace Hotel in Shoreditch in around 2012,” says Amy. “One of his artists was performing, one of my artists was performing, and we ended up talking for two and a half hours. We’ve always said it was basically love at first sight.”

The only hiccup? Amy had a boyfriend. But though the timing was off, the connection lingered. Willy followed her on Instagram; they ran into each other at Glastonbury and other music events; and after Covid, when a by then single Amy was casting a campaign for ASOS, she finally reached out and asked him on a date. Two weeks later, she had his initials, “W H”, tattooed on her fingers. “I just knew,” she says.

They got engaged two years later in San Sebastián (“our go-to place”) at the end of a hike that started in blazing heat and ended in snow, thunder and a spontaneous lake swim, somewhere in the Pyrenees. On an empty mountaintop (“it felt like The Sound of Music”), Will proposed. “I just remember literally dropping to my knees, being like, ‘What the hell is going on?’ I saw the Jessica McCormack box – my dream jewellery brand – and nearly died,” Amy says.

Originally, the couple had planned a completely different wedding in Manchester, but after the death of the groom’s mother, the legendary model and cover star Maudie James, they postponed the celebration by a year and then started over from scratch. In the end the new venue, London’s Studio Voltaire, felt destined. “Maudie was an artist, so it was really important that we got married in a gallery space,” Amy says. In another twist of fate, Amy ended up wearing a dress by Loewe – “the Loewe Foundation supports Studio Voltaire, so it all felt meant to be.” The ceremony took place in a nearby church, “I’m not especially religious,” Amy says, “but I wanted that feeling of spirituality around us.”

The bride walked down the aisle to “A Rainy Night in Soho” performed live by a local music teacher, and the couple exited as newlyweds to “Everlasting Love” – a rare exception granted by a priest who admitted he almost never allows non-hymns. “He said he could see that the whole day was about love,” Amy says, “which meant so much.” Perhaps the most literal expression of that love – and the first of several unexpected, quirky details that day – was impossible to miss: the giant red heart Amy commissioned to cover a window of the church overlooking the high street. The bridesmaids then carried it through the streets of London on the walk from ceremony to reception. “I loved seeing it against the backdrop of all the red double decker buses,” the bride says.

Flowers were taken care of by bridesmaid Sophie Dunn, who runs the shop Flowers Flowers Flowers in Marylebone. “I basically just said, ‘Do whatever you want to do.’ I was speechless walking down the aisle.” What awaited guests at Studio Voltaire was a truly unique set-up: tinsel strands fluttered from the ceilings; episodes of The Real Housewives of New York were projected onto a wall in one room; a corridor became a crazy golf course; and a candy station served the couple’s favourite pick-and-mix. Canned cocktails (Palomas and spicy margaritas, roughly a thousand of them) were served from a pig trough filled with ice, borrowed from a farm in Kent and delivered by the bemused farmer himself. The food, courtesy of Bar Crispin, was equally personal: Scampi Fries, Gildas as a nod to San Sebastián, warm Guinness bread with salted butter and pickles, asparagus with hazelnut purée, chicken and chips with aioli, flapjacks for pudding, and late-night cheese toasties. “The food was basically our dream menu,” Amy says. “If it had been my last meal on earth, I’d have been happy.”

Rather than the usual exercise in social diplomacy, Amy set about deliberately scrambling the table plan, matching guests by instinct rather than acquaintance. The gamble paid off. “So many people texted us after saying who they’d met and connected with. That was something we were really proud of.” Ditto the music. “Because we met through music, we wanted it to feel like a gift to our guests,” the bride explains. And so, a string quartet from Manchester played a set of northern classics; a Madonna tribute act performed “Like a Prayer”; Ellie Goulding – who Amy manages – delivered a 45-minute set that included “Love Me Like You Do” and “How Long Will I Love You”; Sonique had the room singing along to “It Feels So Good”; and a Peruvian band led by another friend, musician Attawalpa (husband of Lena Dunham), moved guests to tears with covers including “Just Like Heaven” by the Cure and “American Pie”. Due to the day festival-worthy entertainment line-up, two Mercedes Vianos were parked outside to serve as makeshift green rooms.

The couple’s first dance was to A-Ha’s “Take On Me”, complete with choreography they came up with in their kitchen days before the wedding. “Willy originally wanted us to recreate the entire dance sequence from ,” Amy says. “I was like, ‘absolutely not.’ So we compromised.” A DJ set by Fish56Octagon – dressed in a Versace dressing gown – closed out the night.

Amy had already decided on dressing her four bridesmaids in neon green Molly Goddard cardigans (paired with green Monsoon dresses and Valentino shoes gifted by the bride) and had every intention of wearing Molly Goddard herself on her big day (“I just adore Molly”). But that was before a dash into Saks in New York, ostensibly for compression tights, ended in Loewe, where then creative director Jonathan Anderson happened to be onsite for a talk. “I saw a floral dress and I was like, ‘oh my God, I have to have this. This is my dress.’” There was, naturally, a complication: her dress money was in an ISA with a two-day withdrawal window. Amy had the shop hold the look and duly emptied her savings.

Amy’s “something borrowed” was an extraordinary antique diamond cuff loaned by childhood friend and bridesmaid Arabella, and her “something old” a pair of crystal embellished Alaïa pumps. The bride’s mother wore Erdem with Valentino heels, in keeping with the day’s dress code, decided by the groom: “Amy loves fashion. Feel free to outdress her.”

For all the camp flourishes, the wedding’s emotional centre remained unmistakably sincere. The night before the ceremony, Amy and Will slipped away from a house full of guests for a quiet walk and to talk about the commitment they were about to make to one another. “When I saw him at the end of the aisle, I just cried,” Amy says. “Being apart that morning had felt so strange, and then suddenly there he was.” Looking back, it isn’t the celebrity performances, the giant heart or even the now notorious pig trough that Amy treasures most. “Will’s speech was my highlight,” she says. “He did a full Churchill impression, cigar and everything, because we got married on D-Day. It was so funny, and it was the one part of the day I had no control over.”

After the wedding, the couple returned to the Pyrenees for their honeymoon, hiking the same trails that provided the backdrop to their engagement. “We basically wanted to throw our passports away and never come back,” Amy says, laughing. “It was the perfect ending.”