The idea of having two ceremonies began as a practical solution and became a celebration of belonging. Tiffany, who is Malaysian Chinese American, grew up in Queens with her mother while her father and extended family lived in Kuala Lumpur. To include everyone without asking thousands of miles of relatives to travel, she and her husband Ben decided to say yes twice: once in Brooklyn and once in Malaysia. The choice let them honor distinct family expectations and cultural practices in ways that felt authentic to both sides.
The couple’s relationship also followed an unusual path. Ben and Tiffany met on a dating app during the pandemic, sharing many hours on Zoom before meeting face to face once vaccines were available. After a period of long-distance getting-to-know-you rituals and playlists exchanged between them, they became engaged two years later. Their dual weddings unfolded as complementary chapters of the same story—one intimate reception in New York and a large, tradition-forward celebration in Malaysia.
Brooklyn: blending Jewish and Chinese customs
Their first ceremony took place in 2026 at a small Brooklyn restaurant called Rule Of Thirds. Ben’s family traditions were woven into the service: he broke the glass in the Jewish custom, the family shared challah, and they signed a ketubah—the written marriage agreement. The ketubah is a formal document that outlines commitments in a Jewish wedding; Tiffany and Ben composed theirs together and now keep it displayed above their bed as a daily reminder of their vows and blended home.
Tea, red envelopes, and joyful interruptions
They also included a tea ceremony, a traditional Chinese ritual in which the newlyweds present tea to elders as a sign of respect. The tea ceremony follows an ordered sequence of relatives and can be long and quiet; during the Brooklyn event, one of Ben’s nephews broke the hush with the line, “When is it gonna be over?” which everyone found hilarious. Afterward, the couple gave out red envelopes (hongbao) to younger family members—Tiffany to a cousin she considers a sister, and Ben to his niece and nephew—rather than the typical younger-sibling gifts since neither had younger siblings to receive them.
Small, meaningful touches made the day feel personal: the pair found a simple arch on Facebook Marketplace and decorated it themselves, draping Ben’s grandfather’s tallit over the top to symbolically include grandparents who had passed. For the recessional they chose a sentimental tune—a Chinese cover of the Cranberries’ “Dreams” by Faye Wong—that had appeared on playlists they’d exchanged early in their dating story. And for pure celebration, the hora had everyone dancing in a raucous, joyful circle, with both mothers leading the cheering.
Kuala Lumpur: a large family banquet and centuries-old rituals
One year after Brooklyn, Tiffany and Ben flew to Kuala Lumpur for the second ceremony. Before setting a date the bride and her mother consulted a Buddhist priest, who used birth information to select an auspicious day—he proposed June 14th. Family members mobilized: one aunt hosted the welcome dinner, another altered a dress and helped assemble Ben’s traditional attire. The preparation was intensely communal; Tiffany says the support from cousins and aunts still moves her to tears when she remembers how involved everyone was.
Traditional dress, gatecrashing, and a translated vow
The Malaysian ceremony embraced ornate clothing: Ben wore a ma kua and Tiffany a kua, outfits known for their elaborate embroidery and layered gold accents. The ma kua and kua represent a visual philosophy of “more is more”—they are designed to impress with intricate detail. The morning featured playful gatecrashing, where groomsmen complete silly or difficult tasks to earn the bride. This ritual can involve stunts, food challenges, or tiny fines payable in cash, Venmo, or even foreign currency; Tiffany’s cousins orchestrated theatrics that left everyone laughing—even under a 95-degree sun, they kept the energy high.
The emotional highlight came when Ben wrote a heartfelt speech and worked with a relative to translate it into the couple’s family dialect, Hakka. Hearing his words in the language of her elders made Tiffany sob with surprise and joy. The couple then completed a second tea ceremony, prayed at a household shrine, and performed a symbolic send-off: Tiffany’s mother wept as if she were seeing her daughter off for good, even though it was a brief drive around the block. The day ended with a lavish Chinese banquet—an eight-course feast focused on communal dining rather than toasts or dancing—and Tiffany used the moment to tell her family how deeply connected she felt, finally at home in both cultures.
Why two ceremonies mattered
For Tiffany and Ben, having two distinct celebrations allowed family, faith, and cultural rituals to shine in the settings that made sense for them. The Brooklyn event honored Jewish rites and intimate friends; the Kuala Lumpur banquet prioritized extended family, traditional clothing, and time-honored customs like red envelopes and gatecrashing. Together the days formed a cohesive narrative: a pair of ceremonies that respected each lineage while building a shared future for the couple—one they hope to revisit with children in years to come.
