Case Study 1: The Sixty-Three-Hour Wedding

Tier 3 — Illustrative. The Marchetti–Boyd wedding, Fieldstone Hall, and all vendors named are composites created for teaching. The hour counts and the sequence of discoveries reflect a pattern that recurs constantly when coordination is sold on a "day-of" basis.

This is the case behind the chapter's opening. Here it is with the numbers.


The Engagement

Sold: "Day-of coordination," $1,400, engaged six weeks out. Planner's private estimate at time of sale: 20 hours. Actual: 63 hours. Effective rate: $22.22/hour before expenses.

The event: Emma Marchetti and Theo Boyd. 130 guests. Fieldstone Hall — a converted grange hall with a small warming kitchen, an adjacent lawn, and a gravel lot. Ceremony 4:00 p.m. on the lawn, cocktails, reception under a rented tent because the hall seats only 90.

The couple had planned it themselves over fourteen months. They were organized people. Emma kept a spreadsheet. They had done, by their own reckoning, ninety percent of the work.


The Sale

The inquiry read, in full:

"Hi! We've got everything booked and we're all set — we just want someone there on the day so our families don't have to work. Do you do day-of coordination? What's your rate?"

Every word of that inquiry is a trap, and the planner walked into all of it.

"We've got everything booked" — true, and not the same as "everything is coordinated." Nine vendors were booked. Four had spoken to no one but Emma.

"We're all set" — a self-assessment by two people with no basis for comparison.

"So our families don't have to work" — the actual, correct, valuable reason to hire someone. This part was true and was the only thing the couple got right about what they needed.

"Do you do day-of coordination?" — the question that determined the price before anyone knew what the job was.

The planner replied with a rate. She did not ask a single diagnostic question. That single omission is the case.

⚠️ Common Pitfall: Quoting from an inquiry. The inquiry is the client's description of a job they cannot assess. Every quote should follow a diagnostic — even a five-minute one. Chapter 2's §2.8 matrix exists so that diagnostic takes four minutes and produces a defensible number.


Week 6: The Discovery

The kickoff call was scheduled for forty-five minutes and ran ninety. Here is what surfaced, in the order it surfaced, with the hours each item eventually cost.

Discovery 1: The timeline (11 hours)

Emma's timeline, verbatim:

2:00  Hair and makeup
3:00  Photos
4:00  Ceremony
4:30  Cocktails
5:30  Dinner
7:00  Toasts
7:30  Cake
8:00  First dance
9:00  Dancing!
10:00 Send off

Eleven lines. Read it against §2.3's three predictable failures:

No load-in. Nothing before 2:00 p.m. exists on this document. In reality, between 8 a.m. and 2 p.m., a tent company, a rental company, a caterer, a florist, and a DJ all need the site, and three of them need it simultaneously in the same 40 feet.

Photography given leftover time. "3:00 Photos" is one line covering a first look, couple portraits, wedding party, and family groupings. Emma's list of family groupings, when the planner asked for it, had 17 entries. At a brisk two and a half minutes each, that alone is 43 minutes — and the line allotted sixty minutes for everything.

Zero buffer. Every item butts against the next. The first slip propagates to the send-off.

Rebuilding it: 11 hours across construction, two rounds of client revision, circulation to nine vendors, and reconciliation of the four conflicts that circulation surfaced.

Discovery 2: The tent (9 hours)

The tent was a 40×60 frame tent for 130 guests. Install: four hours, three-person crew.

Fieldstone Hall's contract, section 6: "Vendor access is permitted beginning at 2:00 p.m. on the day of the event."

Ceremony: 4:00 p.m.

Nobody had put these two facts in the same room. Emma had read the venue contract in month two and the tent contract in month seven, and both were perfectly clear, and the conflict lived in neither of them.

Resolution: The planner called the venue. Early access at 10 a.m. was available for a $300 fee, which the venue was entirely willing to grant and had never been asked for. She called the tent company; a 10 a.m. install worked, at a $200 crew premium for the earlier call time. Then she rebuilt the morning around the new anchor.

**Cost: 9 hours and $500.** At month two it would have been one email and $300.

Discovery 3: The contracts (8 hours)

Nine vendors. Emma had four signed contracts. The other five were email confirmations, one of which was a text message reading "Yes!! So excited!!"

The planner read what existed and found:

  • The caterer's guaranteed count was due 10 days out, not 14 as Emma believed. She had the date wrong on her spreadsheet.
  • The DJ's contract specified 4 hours; the timeline required 6.
  • The florist had quoted for "ceremony arch and 13 centerpieces." There were 14 tables.
  • The rental company's delivery was scheduled for the day after the wedding for pickup — which is standard — but the venue's contract required all property removed by 11 p.m. the night of.
  • The photographer's contract was excellent and had a clause requiring a timeline 14 days out, which nobody had sent.

8 hours to read, register, and resolve. Two of these — the DJ hours and the rental pickup — cost the couple additional money. The florist's miscount cost $180. The catering count date, had it been missed, would have cost roughly $2,900 in unrecoverable guarantee.

Discovery 4: The power (6 hours)

The grange hall had a 100-amp service. On it, at once: the caterer's warming ovens and coffee urns, the DJ's rig, the tent's string lighting, and — this is the one nobody thinks of — the hair and makeup team's four curling irons in the morning, which is a different problem at a different hour.

Nobody had calculated anything.

Resolution: The planner did the arithmetic (Chapter 18 teaches it), found the caterer and DJ together would trip the service, and arranged a small generator for the caterer at $400. 6 hours including two vendor calls and a site visit with an electrician's advice.

Discovery 5: Everything else (29 hours)

  • No rain plan, and the hall seats 90 of 130. 4 hours to build one, including a hard 10 a.m. decision deadline and a named decider.
  • No parking plan. Gravel lot holds 40 cars; 130 guests means roughly 60. 3 hours, resolving to a field overflow and two attendants.
  • No one designated to receive deliveries. 1 hour.
  • Seating chart incomplete at 5 weeks out. 5 hours of assistance.
  • Marriage license in a drawer, unsigned, with the officiant unaware he was signing it. 1 hour.
  • Emma's anxiety, which in the final three weeks generated roughly 40 messages. 8 hours.
  • The rehearsal, which nobody had scheduled with the venue. 2 hours to arrange, 3 hours to run.
  • Final confirmations, nine vendors, twice. 2 hours.

The Ledger

💰 Run the Numbers: what "day-of" actually cost

Item Hours
Kickoff and discovery 3
Contract reading and gap resolution 8
Timeline rebuild and circulation 11
Tent / venue access resolution 9
Power analysis and generator 6
Rain plan 4
Parking plan 3
Seating assistance 5
Miscellaneous gaps 3
Client communication (final 3 weeks) 8
Rehearsal 3
Event day 14
Load-out and next-day return 2
Total 79

(The chapter's opening says 63. That was the planner's own count at the time, made from memory afterward. The reconstructed total is 79. Planners systematically under-count their own hours by 20–25%, which is its own lesson — Chapter 37 addresses why this matters when you set prices.)

At $1,400 for 79 hours: $17.72/hour.

For comparison, on that same wedding: the DJ earned about $190/hour of on-site time. The tent crew earned $28/hour. The catering servers earned $24/hour. The coordinator, who carried the liability for the entire event, earned less than the people carrying chairs.


What the Correct Sale Would Have Looked Like

The planner had all the information she needed in the first inquiry to know this was not a $1,400 job. Not the specifics — but the shape.

📋 The Planner's Script: the four-minute diagnostic before you quote

Reply to "do you do day-of coordination, what's your rate?":

"I do — before I give you a number, can I ask you five quick things? It takes about four minutes and it means the number I give you is actually right rather than a guess."

  1. "How many vendors do you have, and do you have signed contracts from all of them?"
  2. "What are your venue's load-in and load-out times?"
  3. "Is the venue providing tables, chairs, linens, and tableware, or is that a rental order?"
  4. "Do you have a timeline yet? If so, could you send it — I don't need it to be good, I just need to see it."
  5. "Is anything about the site unusual — a tent, a generator, a shuttle, multiple locations?"

What each question is really asking:

Question What it detects
1 Contract gaps — the single largest hidden work block
2 The load-in conflict, which is the most common catastrophic gap
3 Whether this is a raw-site event in disguise (Ch.1)
4 The three predictable timeline failures, in ninety seconds of reading
5 Infrastructure complexity — tents, power, transport

What the answers would have been here: nine vendors, four contracts; load-in at 2 p.m.; caterer plus a full rental order; an eleven-line timeline; and a tent.

What she should have said:

"Thanks — that's really helpful. Based on what you've described, what you need isn't quite day-of coordination. You've got a tent and a 2 p.m. load-in, which I'd want to look at closely, and about half your vendors don't have signed contracts yet. That's more like an eight-week coordination engagement, and I'd quote it at $2,600.

I know that's more than you expected, so let me be straight with you about the alternative: I can do the smaller version at $1,400, and I'll tell you exactly what won't be covered — I won't be reading contracts, I won't be resolving the load-in question, and I'll be building the timeline from whatever exists two weeks out rather than fixing what's underneath it. Some couples take that deal and it's fine. I just want you choosing on purpose."

Both options are honest. The second one is honest because of the list of exclusions, which is Chapter 2's whole argument about scope.


What Actually Happened

The wedding was excellent. Emma and Theo have no idea any of this occurred, except for the $900 in additional fees they paid without much comment, and a vague sense that their coordinator was very thorough.

The planner did not raise the hours. She finished the job, did it well, and was quietly furious for two months.

Six weeks later she rewrote her service menu. "Day-of coordination" came off it permanently, replaced by "Six-Week Coordination — $2,600," with a one-page scope containing seventeen inclusions, eleven exclusions, and a diagnostic form that prospective clients complete before she quotes.

Her booking rate went down by roughly a third. Her income went up by roughly half.


Post-Mortem

Root cause: A price was quoted before the job was diagnosed. Everything else follows.

Contributing causes, in order of leverage:

  1. No diagnostic before quoting. Four minutes would have prevented the entire case.
  2. A product name that described the wrong service. "Day-of" set the client's expectation of price and the planner's expectation of effort, and both were wrong.
  3. No written scope. With no inclusions or exclusions, every discovery became automatically the planner's problem. There was no document to point at.
  4. No change mechanism. By the time the tent problem surfaced, there was no procedure for adding paid work, so the planner absorbed it. A change-order clause would have made a $500 add-on a routine transaction rather than an awkward impossibility.
  5. Engagement at week six. Even correctly scoped and priced, several of these problems were expensive at six weeks and nearly free at six months. This is the argument for front-loading (§2.9).

What went right:

  • The planner ran a genuine discovery call and surfaced everything in one pass rather than discovering it serially over six weeks. That is the difference between 79 hours and 120.
  • She prioritized correctly: tent access first, because it had an external dependency and moved the ceremony time everything else hung on.
  • She solved the catering guarantee date, which was the single largest financial exposure in the whole engagement ($2,900) and which nobody was tracking.
  • She did not renegotiate mid-engagement. Debatable — but raising fees at week four with a client who has done nothing wrong is a real cost to a reputation, and she judged the reputation worth more than the money. Reasonable people differ. (Discussion question 3.)

The transferable lesson: the price of an engagement is set at the moment of the quote, and the quote is usually given before anyone knows what the job is. Everything downstream — resentment, unpaid hours, the quiet fury — is decided in that first email. Four minutes of diagnostic is the highest-return activity in the entire sales process.


Discussion Questions

  1. The planner absorbed 79 hours without raising it. Was that the right call? Construct the argument for renegotiating at week five and the argument against. Which would you make, and does your answer change if the client had been unpleasant rather than lovely?

  2. Emma wrote "we've got everything booked and we're all set." She was not lying and she was not foolish — she had genuinely done fourteen months of careful work. What, structurally, made her unable to assess her own plan? What does that tell you about how to ask diagnostic questions without implying the client is incompetent?

  3. Her booking rate fell by a third and her income rose by half. Work out what that implies about the clients she stopped booking. Is losing them a loss?

  4. Five of the discoveries were the couple's omissions and one — the tent versus the load-in — was a conflict between two correct documents. Which type is more common in your estimation, and which is more dangerous?

  5. The reconstructed total (79) exceeded the planner's own recalled count (63) by 25%. Why do practitioners systematically under-count their own hours, and what should you do about it when setting prices?


Mini-Project

Build the diagnostic form.

Take the five questions in the 📋 script above and expand them into a one-page intake form you would send every prospective coordination client before quoting. Add the §2.8 matrix scoring on the back, so the form produces a tier recommendation automatically.

Then test it: fill it out for the Reyes–Whitfield engagement using only the information in Alicia's Chapter 1 email. Note every field you cannot complete. Those blanks are your consultation agenda for Chapter 3.


References

Tier 3 — Illustrative. Emma Marchetti, Theo Boyd, Fieldstone Hall, and all vendors are composites. Hour counts and fees are illustrative of a mid-cost US market.

Related chapters: Diagnostic and consultation structure — Chapter 3. Contract review — Chapter 8. Rental orders and tent logistics — Chapter 13. Power calculation — Chapter 18. Timeline construction — Chapter 25. Rain plans — Chapter 28. Pricing and the under-counting problem — Chapter 37. Qualifying inquiries — Chapter 38.