Thanks again to John Gallagher for seeing this nice article about Mary McBride, who composed "No One's Gonna Love You Like Me" :
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/10/fashion/weddings/10VOWS.html?_r=1&oref=sloginJune 10, 2007
Vows
Mary McBride and Leslie KlotzBy LOIS SMITH BRADY
MARY McBRIDE, a country-folk singer and songwriter, lives like someone chasing a tornado, with little concern for safety, convention, income or comfort. Until a year ago, her home was an unrenovated Brooklyn loft, furnished with a picnic table, a bed and a life-size portrait of Dolly Parton. “She was happy as a clam,” said Greg Unis, her landlord and a friend.
But her songs are mostly sad, like “No One’s Gonna Love You Like Me,” which is the one that makes you cry on the “Brokeback Mountain” movie soundtrack. And her voice is part angel, part truck driver, as if to say sometimes you power through sadness, and sometimes you just hope for a miracle.
In 2005, she went to a few New York Christmas parties alone, with her usual gritty aplomb. At the last of the parties, around midnight, a mutual friend introduced her to Leslie Klotz, who then headed public relations at Banana Republic in Manhattan.
“Leslie is a tall, lean string bean, a pale Nordic-looking blonde, very elegant, very Town & Country,” said Elizabeth Fillmore, a wedding gown designer and friend. Ms. Klotz, 48, lives near Washington Square Park in an apartment that Mr. Unis said, “has an amazing art collection, and about 27 layers of black lacquer in the entrance hall.”
Yet there is nothing regal about Ms. Klotz. “She takes risks, and she has a very infectious laugh and she keeps friends forever,” said Jane Friedman, a longtime friend.
Ms. Klotz and Ms. McBride spoke for only a few minutes, but each left the party thinking about the other. “I remember being happy there was a gay woman in New York who was pretty and smart that I hadn’t dated,” Ms Klotz said. She added, not at all wearily: “I had been out and about for a long time. I dated lots of different women, from somebody in fashion, to advertising, to a writer, to a professional tennis player. It couldn’t be any worse than being a straight woman in New York.”
Three weeks later, Ms. McBride e-mailed Ms. Klotz an invitation to her next gig at Joe’s Pub in the East Village. Ms. Klotz was the host of a Banana Republic party across the street that night but sneaked out and heard just enough of Ms. McBride’s set to e-mail her some authentic-sounding compliments the next morning.
Ms. McBride then called and asked Ms. Klotz out for a drink. “She gave me a choice of three different places to go,” recalled Ms. Klotz, who like Ms. McBride, grew up in a politically connected Washington family. “I was pretty sure from the names that all the wines came with a screw-off top.”
They settled on the Rodeo Bar downtown, where Ms. McBride plays, always in faded jeans. “Leslie walks in wearing an Hermès scarf,” Ms. McBride recalled. “I thought, ‘What was I thinking?’ We just seemed like two totally different people.”
They are. “Mary’s a deep old soul, which comes out in her music,” said Eames Yates, a friend, “and Leslie is like a beautiful chandelier on the Fourth of July, wonderful and glamorous and smart.”
Nevertheless, the two ended up talking until closing. Ms. McBride, 37, said of Ms. Klotz: “She gets along with everybody, no matter who. That’s the thing I loved about her from the get-go, her real openness.”
Still, both proceeded cautiously. “I was recently out of a challenging relationship and I was trying — uncharacteristically — to pace myself,” said Ms. Klotz, now the director of business development at Art + Commerce, a Manhattan agency representing photographers, stylists and creative directors. Also, Ms. McBride was on the road a lot, playing with her band and on business in Africa and Asia for Goldman Sachs, with which she has a day job organizing events for a college student leadership program. “I was able to feign indifference because I was leaving town all the time,” Ms. McBride said.
But as soon as she returned from her travels, she began spending most nights at Ms. Klotz’s. “At least she could get a hot shower and a hot meal here,” Ms. Klotz said.
Ms. McBride moved in gradually, at first bringing just her books, then her clothes, then her guitar and then her rusty furniture, which made it official.
“I think I know what love is because of Mary,” Ms. Klotz said. It is not when you feel like you could live together, she said, it’s when you feel you couldn’t live without each other.
Ms. McBride proposed to Ms. Klotz on Nantucket last summer. “Without even blinking an eye, she said ‘Perfect,’ ” Ms. McBride recalled.
On May 19, they had a commitment ceremony before 180 guests at the Round Hill resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica, where Ms. Klotz’s family has a house. The women walked down a rose-petal aisle, each wearing a different Elizabeth Fillmore gown, to an altar made of bamboo poles and fluttering Tibetan flags. In her homily, Sarah Bune, the friend who led the ceremony, explained that love once found has more staying power than people think. It is not easily destroyed.
Afterward guests danced on a terrace decorated with giant yellow and pink paper daffodils. “In the middle of this wild scene, Mary, covered in sweat, got up and sang the most riveting, beautiful rendition of ‘Amazing Grace,’ ” Mr. Yates said. “Everyone was just carried out over the ocean.”
Chester Francis-Jackson contributed reporting from Jamaica.
