Basque Wedding Invitations: Text That Sounds Like Home

You are at the kitchen table with your partner's phone lying between you. The cover says '2026ko ekainaren 21a, larunbata'. Your mother reads it and nods. Your cousin in Madrid texts back: which day is that? Same invitation, two readers, and only one of them is getting the answer.

The fix is not translating the whole thing. It is choosing which words stay in Euskara, which ones get a second line underneath, and keeping that choice the same from the cover to the WhatsApp message to the card on the table.

Basque wedding invitations: four labels that do not swap cleanly

Two of the words people put on a Basque wedding invitation look like they do the same job. They do not. Sort these four out before you touch the design.

• 'Ezteiak' means weddings; 'gonbidapena' is the invitation itself. Pick one and keep it on the cover, in the WhatsApp message and on the table card.
• The date reads better on two lines: '2026ko ekainaren 21a, larunbata' above, 'Saturday, 21 June 2026' below. If you are unsure about a form, put both rather than leaving one alone.
• The time does not change, the label does: 'Ordua: 13:00' or 'Time: 13:00'. Never both in the same block. Stacking them is what turns an invitation into a form.
• 'Noiz eta non' carries when and where in one label. If you split it, use 'Data' for the date and 'Lekua' for the place, each with its translated line under it.

Two languages on one screen without it reading like paperwork

One idea per language. Euskara on top and a size larger, Spanish directly underneath, smaller and in grey. Whoever does not read Euskara gets the whole thing without moving their eyes twice, and it looks deliberate instead of doubled.

Names do not get translated. 'Ane eta Mikel' is written the same in both versions; what changes is everything around it, the date, the place, the closing line. And if a phrase only works in Euskara, leave it alone and translate the practical parts: where, when, how to reply. A family joke put through a translation usually dies on the way.

It is not bilingual because you translated everything. It is bilingual because nobody has to ask what day it is.

Pick the color before the typeface

A stone-grey background with a soft green holds any typeface on a phone screen. Save one deep red for the confirm button and nothing else. Choose your photos before you fall in love with a font: one for the cover, one close shot of the two of you, two or three decorative ones inside the scenes. They frame themselves, and you can swap the cover photo later without rebuilding anything. If you add music, say so in the scene text. Not everyone recognizes the song in the first second, and phones usually start muted.

The 'berretsi' that arrives on its own

The confirm button can read 'Berretsi' or 'Baiezkoa eman'. Replies land in an ordered list inside the invitation, not in your personal WhatsApp. Set the questions once: coming, how many, with whom. Allergies, menus and cots are not something the reply form sorts out, so ask about those by phone or in person. And if the time or the place moves two weeks out, you edit the invitation. The link stays the same and nobody sees an old version.

It is digital, so there is no printing and no envelopes. If your grandmother wants something for the drawer, print four copies at home and send the link to everyone else. A small QR on a card opens the full invitation, and whoever does not use a phone confirms by phone while you add them to the list yourself. That plan takes an afternoon. Start by trying a design for free: edit the cover with the names and the date exactly as you say them at home, and look at it on your phone before you decide. It unlocks for €29.99, one payment, and if something changes you edit it once and the same link shows the new version.