Weddings

So who takes longer to get dressed? That's a no-brainer when the choice lies between Kate Hudson and Anne Hathaway, the young actresses who play best friends turned battling bridezillas in "Bride Wars," which arrives in theaters today. When the question is posed during an interview with the leading ladies, Hudson instantly turns to Hathaway, who looks guilty as charged.

Jed Matzke sets out each day to guide love-struck couples to happily ever after. It's not as romantic as it sounds. The first stop in Las Vegas for brides and grooms is the Clark County Marriage Bureau, at the corner of Clark and 3rd, down the street from a bail bondsman and the county jail. Matzke hangs out six days a week at the Pit, as some call the corner, smoking Marlboros, sucking Werther's candies, waiting for his shot.

Forget economic stimulus checks. Same-sex marriages may give California just the financial boost it needs. Wedding planners, bakers and hotels began booking more business almost immediately after the state Supreme Court's May 15 decision overturning a ban on gay marriage. Citing pent-up demand, one UCLA study projects that same-sex unions could provide a $370-million shot in the arm to the state economy over the next three years.

Ann Barnett says she's always tried to do the right thing, whether for her church, her five children, her husband of 31 years or the people she serves as Kern County's elected clerk and auditor-controller. So she's bewildered by the anger that's come her way since she decided -- just before gay marriages become legal -- to stop holding all civil weddings at her county offices.

Not too long ago, Rena Puebla and Ellie Genuardi had a hard time getting distributors to carry their unique cake toppers -- porcelain-like figurines that interchange to make gay, straight and interracial couples. When they pitched the figurines to home shopping networks, executives shot them down. Ditto mainstream stores. No one told them expressly why they wouldn't carry the decorations, but to the business partners who designed the diverse dolls, the message was clear.

It's 9 a.m. on a Thursday, and Paul Waters and Kevin Voecks are paging through photos of cakes at the Vienna Bakery in Thousand Oaks. "Would you want something like that?" Voecks asked, pausing briefly on one. "Hmmm," Waters replied. It's 12 days until their wedding. Voecks, 51, pointed to another, a four-tiered cake, with icing studs running down its side. "This one reminds me of a tuxedo shirt, it's not effeminate." "I think bow ties here," Waters, 53, said.

Few moms get to see two daughters married within minutes of each other. Doris Weddell, 75, was ecstatic. "I'm on a high," she said. "This is way up there. It's like childbearing." On a tree-shaded patio outside the Kern County clerk's office, Whitney Weddell, 43, and Tracy Weddell, 48, each exchanged vows with their longtime partners. They had to use the outdoor venue and volunteer ministers, because Kern County Clerk Ann Barnett stopped all civil marriages in advance of Tuesday.

In this farm town about 70 miles north of Sacramento, Colusa County Clerk Kathleen Moran carefully prepared for the big day. When the doors to her office swung open at 8:30 a.m., she waited. And waited some more. "We're ready for it," Moran said, expectant even as the morning ticked away. But not a same-sex couple was to be wed, nor a protester seen.

It was supposed to be a no-frills, no-fuss affair: Just a quick wedding and then get on with the day. Trying to avoid crowds in West Hollywood, Bill Walker, 51, and Kelly Ziegler, 40, hit the Airport Courthouse to get their license. They brought their children -- Elizabeth, 7, and James, 2. It was Walker's second same-sex marriage -- although the first was fictitious. Once a writer for the TV sitcom "Roseanne," he wrote what he said was the first gay wedding on TV.

The weather cooperated. The lines, when there were lines, moved quickly. Men married men and women married women, and the celebrators outnumbered the protesters. From big and small communities up and down California, scenes from the first full day of legal same-sex marriage.