Wedding invitations that expire: five mistakes

It's the Thursday before the wedding and the group chat is doing what group chats do. Someone asks what time dinner starts. Two people give two different times, because one is reading a screenshot from March and the other is squinting at a PDF they downloaded once and never opened again. Nobody is being careless. The invitation just stopped matching the plan.

That is a wedding invitation that expires. Not with a bang — it quietly stops being true. Plans move: the time slips an hour, the room changes, the dress code gets decided late, the map needs fixing. It happens in small ways, and none of them look like a problem until the final week.

The PDF nobody opens twice

Send a PDF on WhatsApp and it downloads once, then sinks between a voice note and a photo of someone's dog. Nobody scrolls back to find it. Worse, a file doesn't change: move dinner from nine to half past eight and the old copy is still out there, still telling someone the wrong time, with no way to correct it.

• An attached PDF that sinks into the chat within two weeks.
• A link tied to a free trial that ends, taking the invitation with it.
• The old time still going round in a screenshot.
• Confirmations scattered across three different WhatsApp groups.

Changing the time shouldn't cost a re-send

With paper, moving the reception to another room means ringing people one by one and hoping you don't miss anyone. With a link that stays put, every guest sees the new room the next time they tap it. Add a map or a dress code at the last minute and you edit the same page instead of messaging eighty people.

Fixing a misspelled name or a line that reads badly takes two minutes. Nothing gets reprinted, nothing gets re-sent, and the version in people's hands is always the current one — even the aunt who opened the link back in September.

An invitation that lives at one address can change with you. A screenshot can't.

The RSVP that gets lost in the WhatsApp group

Ask 'are you coming?' in a group of ninety and the answer turns into a thread of memes and voice notes. By the end, nobody knows who's actually in. Confirmations that arrive inside the invitation land in one tidy list, and you choose the questions the form asks. No chasing replies one by one the week before, no guessing who that plus-one was.

Paper for the ones who keep it, a link for everyone

If someone in the family wants paper, print a few copies for the people who'll keep them in a drawer. The link does the work for everyone else. Guests only need a phone, a tablet or a computer with a connection; share the link or a QR code and you're done. One payment of €29.99 covers the whole thing, with no subscription to forget about.

Your invitation shouldn't expire before the promise it announces. Pick a design, try it free, and publish yours for €29.99 — one payment, one link you keep editing without ever sending it again.