Exclusive: Naomi Biden On Her White House Wedding

Naomi enters the Green Room inside a beehive of giddy activity: hairdresser, make-up artist, stylist Bailey Moon and two Ralph Lauren designers, Andrea and Lorenzo, who have come as keepers of the custom gown, quick to jump into the frame and help fluff and smooth the mille-feuille organza, charmeuse, and crinoline skirt.

“Like every little girl, I had a vision in my head—it was Grace Kelly’s dress I loved,” admits Naomi, who with her Audrey Hepburn brows and honey-colored hair is not a far cry from the Princess of Monaco (after all , a White House wedding is our country’s version of a royal one). The cathedral-length silk organza veil with matching Chantilly lace border is stretched out covering the entire blue and yellow carpet of the oval-shaped Blue Room, and flutters of panic ensue when it is suggested we try photographing Naomi in it.

Mia and Asha, Naomi’s two best friends and classmates from Sidwell Friends, have come down from New York for the occasion and are acting as ladies-in-waiting—cooing over how majestic she looks and offering bottled water with a straw so as not to disrupt the bride’s makeup. It was Mia, also an attorney, who introduced Naomi to Peter at her house in East Hampton in June 2018. Naomi was so taken with the young law student—who had interned at the Obama White House and worked for Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign—that she texted him the next day while he was on an Amtrak train, headed back to his summer internship in DC, to suggest he disembark in Wilmington and come visit her at her grandparents’ instead. “He did it,” says Naomi with a hint of triumph. (Peter’s taxi driver was impressed when he gave him the address: “That’s Joe Biden’s house!”)

Three years later, Peter proposed in his hometown of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, with an emerald-cut diamond fitted on his grandmother’s gold band, even as Naomi’s family assembled as a surprise at his family home.

At the White House, as a magnificent sunset outlines the Washington Monument in shades of lavender and pink, Naomi’s two little sisters, Finnegan, 22, and Maisy, 21, shuffle into the Blue Room where everyone is oohing over the cloudscape. They have their hands over their eyes and so move a little clumsily in their sweatsuits. “We don’t want to see the dress before!” the sisters chime. “Is Nana here yet?”

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