Bezos Wedding: Pajama Party, Media Scrum, And A Grand Total In Venice

June 30, 2025

The marathon Sanchez/Bezos ring exchange celebrations in Venice didn’t precisely follow Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) narrative arc, although the party gauntlet itself did share a number of tropes with Mozart’s and Lorenzo da Ponte’s brilliant 1786 comedy. For one thing, the weekend featured the trials and tribulations of a set of 200-plus figures more than slightly financially and socially elevated in stature than the lowly Figaro as they more or less stumbled (or were shepherded) from luxury abode to rager and back, only to shower, change, eat, shop, and then strike out to the boat queue for the next rager. Like Figaro, they had a lot of work set in front of them.

The edgy dress throughout the gauntlet was only amplified by the code for the “final” Arsenale party on Saturday, 28 June, as guests began to break out their gear for the strikingly retro-themed “pajama party.” Surprising numbers of them actually managed to adhere to the code. Pictured below, U.S. larger-than-life Über-producer Brian Grazer, clearly in touch with his inner apex-predator leopard, fearlessly boards his launch at the Gritti Palace in his perfectly spotted silk sleep-set, bound for the Hef-like bacchanal. The leopard does not change his spots.

Massive kudos to Mr. Grazer for upping the male ante. The Gritti’s dock-manager to Grazer’s left, foreground right in the shot, is suspicious that his sturdy right elbow, offered for support during that parlous little leap from land to sea, is being roundly ignored. But what sort of mimsy leopard would take a dock manager’s elbow, for Christ’s sake? Time for the predator to strike. Nothing like a little entertainment for the paparazzi to keep things rolling out in front of the Gritti. Mr. Grazer brings a bracing dose of team spirit to the Bezos megaparty.

Party after party, all weekend long — and that’s saying something — Italian/American and summer-on-the-Med regular Leo DiCaprio had been oddly ducking and diving each time he exited the Gritti, putting his hands up in front of his face when it was time to board his launch, thereby ruining hundreds upon hundreds of photo editors’ days. In police stakeout parlance, it took about two seconds on the first day to make his steady girlfriend, Vittoria Ceretti, then, trotting a few yards behind, DiCaprio. Why so shy? It’s not as if the photographers are, in any sort of ancient Native American context, “stealing his soul through his eyes.” He’s one of the more regularly photographed men in the United States. It’s part of his job.

Then came the Arsenale pajama party on Saturday. Simultaneously proving that he is a man’s man, and with a wink at the 1960s heyday of the Playboy empire, DiCaprio went straight for the jugular in the Hef-iest of the several Hugh Hefner sets on parade, in Hef’s trademark early-era crimson silk, no less. DiCaprio’s striking LA Dodgers topper, in all black, adds geographical authenticity to the provenance: For all we know, these crimson silk jammies could have been a set of Hef’s, snatched up by an eagle-eyed DiCaprio as they closed the Playboy mansion down. It’s the strikingly broad leg of the pant, cut to be comfortable for a frictionless exit, that scream Hef-in-his-1963-heyday. The Gritti Palace associate greeter just to DiCaprio’s left seems pleased with the joke.

Did he duck again? Sadly, yes, but not before the paparazzi caught the kit, crimson top, crimson bottoms, and the silver neck chain underneath. Hef would have been proud.

Easily half the wedding weekend’s Figaro-esque comedy was brought by the great chase given by the guests and the attendant Sanchez/Bezos party-planning and security apparatus to the coursing hounds of the international press. Although in architecture it was a game of thrust and parry, it was no less hard fought. Pictured top, a textbook example of the box-and-block tactics that the police on Venice’s new hybrid jet-skis used to corral the photographers aboard their private launches outside the sole dock on the private island of San Giorgio Maggiore, site of the Sanchez/Bezos ring ceremony and dinner, on June 27. Jet skis are a splendid invention, for mega-yachtsmen, surfers and surf competitions, and security forces alike. The Venetian police’s hybrids, recently aquired, are by Huracan Marine, designed to run on diesel when the cops need bursts of power and speed, electricity when all that’s required is slow cruising.

For Italy and for Venice, the rather large Sanchez/Bezos parade did leave more than a few bonuses for Italy and for Venice in its wake. With pleasantly surprising discretion, in April, as they selected Venice to be their wedding celebration location, Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez set a 3-million-euro ($3.5-million) gift in motion to three Venetian charities, while also requesting that their guests eschew personal gifts. Italy’s tourism ministry estimated a 957-million-euro ($1.12 billion) benefit to the overall tourism economy. The lion’s share of that impressive number was calculated to have been in publicity for the country and the city. Like the coverage or not, that, they got in spades.

 

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