Younger couples are pushing back against lavish traditions or ceremonies that lack meaning to them. But that doesn’t mean disrupting tradition for the sake of it. 

Originally published in print and online by The Straits Times on 31st August 2025.

The moment my partner and I got engaged last September, the questions started pouring in from family and friends. Not just about when and where, but “how many tables”, “are you doing the tea ceremony”, and my personal favourite: “Got consult the feng shui master already?”

It became clear that planning a wedding wasn’t just about celebrating love – it’s about managing tradition, expectations and, sometimes, decades-old family politics over a 10-course meal. What’s more, in Asian households, weddings don’t only mark the start of a marriage, but are also about families, legacy, reputation and who gets to take credit for a well-raised child.

Older generations tend to believe a wedding should be lavish because it’s tied to family pride and saving face. For them, it’s less about the couple’s personal preferences and more about upholding customs and showing respect to their relatives.

But lately, I’ve seen more Gen Z couples – in their early to mid-20s – start to push back more openly and publicly against this. Weddings are often associated with fancy locations like a hotel ballroom or high-end restaurant. But in 2023, a Singaporean couple made headlines for tying the knot at a McDonald’s outlet in West Coast Park.

Sure, getting married at a fast-food joint might sound unorthodox. But for the couple, it was perfectly on-brand – they saw it as an honest reflection of who they were: fuss-free, grounded and focused on what really mattered.

The rise of “hotpot weddings” at Haidilao in China reflects a similar shift. These pared-back celebrations have been framed as budget hacks, but they’re also soft rejections of the idea that weddings need to be lavish or traditional to be meaningful. I’ve even seen black wedding dresses trending on TikTok and Reddit, something that would probably raise a few eyebrows in many Asian families.

So how can a young couple about to tie the knot navigate the fine line between honouring tradition and creating a truly meaningful celebration?

Bride and prejudice

It’s tempting to frame this as simple generational rebellion – a case of younger people pushing back against tradition, but the shift is deeper and more nuanced than that.

Raised in a globalised, digitally connected world, millennials and Gen Zers have grown up seeing how weddings can be both deeply personal and highly performative. Social media has amplified this: while it offers a platform to celebrate love creatively, it also invites public scrutiny and comparison in ways previous generations didn’t have to contend with.

This digital exposure has unfolded alongside what some have dubbed “therapy culture”, a growing emphasis on emotional literacy, boundary-setting and self-awareness. Where older generations might have prioritised duty or family expectations, the younger ones are more likely to prioritise mental well-being.

According to a 2025 McKinsey survey on the future of wellness, nearly 30 per cent of Gen Zers and millennials in the US report prioritising wellness “a lot more” than they did just a year ago, a jump that outpaces older generations.

This awareness has clearly seeped into how younger generations approach wedding planning – and it makes sense that couples today, whether in Singapore or the US, are more conscious of emotional
bandwidth.

What used to be accepted as just part of the wedding grind – keeping everyone happy, saying yes to every tradition, stretching budgets to please extended family – is now being interrogated.

There are also economic reasons. With housing prices climbing, wages stagnating and the cost of living rising, the pressure to spend tens of thousands on a single day can feel unwarranted.

Weddings in Singapore have become significantly more expensive. According to one report, banquet prices alone have risen by over 50 per cent in the last decade, with tables now costing between $1,500 and $2,000 each. Even smaller celebrations can quickly add up, with many couples spending upwards of $30,000 to $50,000, especially once hidden costs like service charges and corkage fees are included.

Among my friends, many are spending close to $50,000 for around 180 guests, and that’s before add-ons like attire, decor, alcohol and the post-dinner party.

But ultimately, the common thread is that younger couples are less willing to follow traditions they don’t believe in. Where older generations might have accepted discomfort for the sake of harmony, many of us are finally asking: Whose happiness is this really about?

Something borrowed, something true

Our big day is tentatively set for the second half of 2026 or early 2027, and my partner and I have had countless conversations about what we want our wedding to be like. Meaningful, intimate, fun. Something that honours our families, but not at the cost of authenticity.

That’s easier said than done because every decision circles back to deeper concerns about respect, filial piety and the fear of letting others down. We toyed with the idea of a destination wedding, but our parents were worried that older relatives might feel left out or the logistics would get too complicated. So we’re thinking of a smaller local ceremony instead, followed by a casual after-party.

Thankfully, both sets of parents haven’t handed us rigid “must-haves” or dropped passive-aggressive hints. But for others, this may not be the case.

One friend recounted how she and her partner opted for Western cuisine rather than the traditional Chinese banquet – a choice that unsettled her more conservative parents. They feared the decision might appear “cheap” or less respectable to older relatives, reflecting traditional assumptions that equate lavish Chinese banquets with social status.

“It was frustrating,” she admitted. “Especially since the venue we selected was actually more expensive than many hotel banquets. But when that narrative takes hold, people start to believe it.”

Another friend, who had a Malay wedding, told me that the guest list is often very long – including extended family members or people the couple might barely know – and seating arrangements are often
not fixed.

She said in the older generation’s eyes, not inviting someone could
cause real offence.

However, she wanted a smaller, more intimate guest list with assigned seating to create a more comfortable atmosphere for her loved ones. They eventually compromised by hosting a larger
afternoon reception for the wider community, followed by a smaller dinner with assigned seating for close friends.

This let her honour tradition without giving up the kind of wedding she actually wanted.

More vows, less wows

So how can we carve out space for authenticity, while keeping elders happy?

The key is not to disrupt for disruption’s sake, but to shape a day that reflects our values, relationships and financial realities. Instead of tossing aside tradition, a subtle tweak can keep the peace.

I’ve seen tea ceremonies conducted in English, gold jewellery replaced with something more personalised and in the couple’s style, as well as smaller, split celebrations – a formal hotel banquet for the
older guests, then a laid-back beach bash with friends.

It is, of course, important to acknowledge the value parents place on weddings.

A marriage counsellor told me: “Parents may not say it outright, but weddings often represent an emotional closure for them. It’s not just about their grown-up children getting married, it’s about the story they’ve been telling themselves since their child was born.”

Open communication is vital. Bringing your parents into the conversation early and explaining your choices clearly will help set boundaries without burning bridges.

For example, a friend made it a point to clarify any traditions or customs she wasn’t sure about with her parents. She kept the important ones like the tea ceremony but asked her parents in advance to remove or simplify the more overlapping or extensive rituals like gatecrashing.

In planning my wedding, I’m learning that flexibility is key. Figuring out where you can compromise will make everything smoother, not just on the big day but long after the last slice of cake is gone.

One helpful approach is to split planning into three categories. Non-negotiables: things you and your partner absolutely agree on, like venue size, guest limits or meaningful rituals. For us, that was the tea
ceremony.

Nice-to-haves: elements that add personality and flair, such as flowers, a specific dress code or fun decorations. Knowing what you can live without helps you compromise without losing your vision.

Tradition and family considerations: Balancing these alongside your own wishes requires negotiation and figuring out what to keep, adapt or gracefully leave out.

So, how have we been handling all the unsolicited feng shui advice? Well, I just say I’m still waiting on my partner’s mum to come back to me on wedding dates. (She’s consulting her expert, of course.)

While we want our wedding to reflect who we are, honouring family traditions and loved ones is part of the journey, too.

Above all, we’ve agreed on this: the wedding is one day. The marriage is every day after.