Rick Harrison Marries Again: Pawn Stars Royalty, Elvis Vows, and Vegas Nights

Max Sterling, 1/5/2026Pawn Stars' Rick Harrison marries Angie Polushkin in a whimsical Vegas wedding officiated by an Elvis impersonator. The couple celebrates with BBQ, sincere vows, and plans for a second celebration in Cancun, highlighting moments of love amidst life’s chaos.

There’s a particular flavor to Las Vegas nuptials—call it a blend of kitsch, hope, and resigned optimism. After the vows, the newly minted Harrisons didn’t retreat to some starched ballroom for generic canapés. Instead, true to form, they migrated down the block to Rick’s Rollin Smoke BBQ & Tavern, a smoky shrine to slow-cooked satisfaction. Forget foie gras. Here, it’s brisket with a side of personality, the faint tang of mesquite swirling around the guests like applause.

A joint statement released by the couple radiated the kind of giddy sincerity usually reserved for lottery winners or long-shot sports bets finally paying off. “Excited to start this next chapter,” they declared to PEOPLE, the words fairly leaping off the screen. One could almost picture the slot machines ringing in celebration—though that’s just everyday background noise in Vegas.

Looking beyond the velvet theatrics and sequin-studded officiants, another current flickers beneath the surface. Rick Harrison could easily have reduced the whole day to a punchline about collecting wives the way Pawn Stars collects autographed memorabilia, but this—oddly enough—felt grounded, even tender. Recent years haven’t exactly gone easy: loss upon loss, heartbreak upon heartbreak. Harrison’s seen both his son Adam and mother Joanne pass far too soon, and the legacy of his father, “The Old Man,” remains ever-present, especially for those tuning in to catch vintage Pawn Stars re-runs at two in the morning. Clearly, there are chapters in Rick’s personal narrative that don’t air on TV.

Two proposals paved the way for this latest union. The first—a living room affair—was, by teenage stepdaughter standards, exceedingly unromantic. Evidently, nothing kills the mood like couch cushions and snack wrappers (or so it’s rumored). Redemption would come thousands of miles south in a Chilean vineyard, under dappled light, where Rick, ring in hand, went old-school and bent the knee. Angie’s Instagram post sounded a note somewhere between poetry and pure euphoria; hashtags optional but implied.

The object of desire? A 6.5-carat pear-shaped stunner. And—true to his trade—the gem hailed from none other than Harrison’s own Gold & Silver Pawn Shop. The spokesperson labeled it “breathtaking, just like Angie.” Perhaps a touch over-the-top? Maybe, but subtlety has never been Vegas’s strong suit, and sometimes sincerity wears a little hyperbole for good luck.

Who actually witnessed the moment? Pawn Stars fans might expect a table packed with familiar faces—Chumlee ready with a punchline, Corey dispensing brotherly advice. Instead, real life, lacking an episode outline, veered off-script: Chumlee was absent, Corey tuned in remotely from Mexico, and it was Rick’s granddaughter Elizabeth who held the fort in person. Family, it must be said, comes in all configurations.

There’s a ledger of marriages trailing Rick: Kim, Tracy, Deanna, Amanda—a series worthy of its own collector’s set. Life, never as orderly as a pawn shop’s backroom, makes no promises. Still, the transitions from heartbreak to hope tend to linger longer when filtered through smoke (both literal and metaphorical) and the sort of optimism that powers Vegas itself.

Elvis impersonators, barbecue sauce, a jewelry counter-worthy ring—these are undeniably surface details, yet the heart of it all is harder to quantify. After decades spent asking “What’s it worth?” maybe the real trick is knowing when not to measure at all. Moments like this—messy, joyful, stubbornly human—defy easy appraisal.

The party, fittingly, isn’t quite finished. A second celebration in Cancun waits on the horizon, promising sun instead of neon, perhaps a mariachi in lieu of a King. In Vegas, bets rarely go as planned, but if there’s anything to be gleaned from Rick Harrison’s story, it’s that the best treasures often come wrapped in a little chaos. Wouldn’t bet against a baby blue tux making an appearance before long.

So, as Rick and Angie set off for their double-feature wedding season, Vegas rolls on—bright lights, bruised dreams, and a whole lot of brisket. Some stories, like the best items behind the pawn shop counter, are worth far more than anyone first suspects.

The Las Vegas Strip—where dining can melt plastic, fortunes are drawn and quartered hourly, and wedding bells never truly go silent—has witnessed more marriages than even the most optimistic wedding planner dares tally. Still, even amidst all the neon, it’s not every day that Rick Harrison, the poker-faced raconteur of pawned Americana, trades appraisal for affection. But, yes, that’s exactly what happened during a brisk 2025 spring afternoon, when Harrison (60) exchanged vows with Angie Polushkin (42). Elvis—technically, a devoted impersonator, but who’s counting in Vegas?—served as the master of ceremonies, giving the affair that inimitable, rhinestone sheen only the Little White Chapel can offer.There’s a particular flavor to Las Vegas nuptials—call it a blend of kitsch, hope, and resigned optimism. After the vows, the newly minted Harrisons didn’t retreat to some starched ballroom for generic canapés. Instead, true to form, they migrated down the block to Rick’s Rollin Smoke BBQ & Tavern, a smoky shrine to slow-cooked satisfaction. Forget foie gras. Here, it’s brisket with a side of personality, the faint tang of mesquite swirling around the guests like applause.A joint statement released by the couple radiated the kind of giddy sincerity usually reserved for lottery winners or long-shot sports bets finally paying off. “Excited to start this next chapter,” they declared to PEOPLE, the words fairly leaping off the screen. One could almost picture the slot machines ringing in celebration—though that’s just everyday background noise in Vegas.Looking beyond the velvet theatrics and sequin-studded officiants, another current flickers beneath the surface. Rick Harrison could easily have reduced the whole day to a punchline about collecting wives the way Pawn Stars collects autographed memorabilia, but this—oddly enough—felt grounded, even tender. Recent years haven’t exactly gone easy: loss upon loss, heartbreak upon heartbreak. Harrison’s seen both his son Adam and mother Joanne pass far too soon, and the legacy of his father, “The Old Man,” remains ever-present, especially for those tuning in to catch vintage Pawn Stars re-runs at two in the morning. Clearly, there are chapters in Rick’s personal narrative that don’t air on TV.Two proposals paved the way for this latest union. The first—a living room affair—was, by teenage stepdaughter standards, exceedingly unromantic. Evidently, nothing kills the mood like couch cushions and snack wrappers (or so it’s rumored). Redemption would come thousands of miles south in a Chilean vineyard, under dappled light, where Rick, ring in hand, went old-school and bent the knee. Angie’s Instagram post sounded a note somewhere between poetry and pure euphoria; hashtags optional but implied.The object of desire? A 6.5-carat pear-shaped stunner. And—true to his trade—the gem hailed from none other than Harrison’s own Gold & Silver Pawn Shop. The spokesperson labeled it “breathtaking, just like Angie.” Perhaps a touch over-the-top? Maybe, but subtlety has never been Vegas’s strong suit, and sometimes sincerity wears a little hyperbole for good luck.Who actually witnessed the moment? Pawn Stars fans might expect a table packed with familiar faces—Chumlee ready with a punchline, Corey dispensing brotherly advice. Instead, real life, lacking an episode outline, veered off-script: Chumlee was absent, Corey tuned in remotely from Mexico, and it was Rick’s granddaughter Elizabeth who held the fort in person. Family, it must be said, comes in all configurations.There’s a ledger of marriages trailing Rick: Kim, Tracy, Deanna, Amanda—a series worthy of its own collector’s set. Life, never as orderly as a pawn shop’s backroom, makes no promises. Still, the transitions from heartbreak to hope tend to linger longer when filtered through smoke (both literal and metaphorical) and the sort of optimism that powers Vegas itself.Elvis impersonators, barbecue sauce, a jewelry counter-worthy ring—these are undeniably surface details, yet the heart of it all is harder to quantify. After decades spent asking “What’s it worth?” maybe the real trick is knowing when not to measure at all. Moments like this—messy, joyful, stubbornly human—defy easy appraisal.The party, fittingly, isn’t quite finished. A second celebration in Cancun waits on the horizon, promising sun instead of neon, perhaps a mariachi in lieu of a King. In Vegas, bets rarely go as planned, but if there’s anything to be gleaned from Rick Harrison’s story, it’s that the best treasures often come wrapped in a little chaos. Wouldn’t bet against a baby blue tux making an appearance before long.So, as Rick and Angie set off for their double-feature wedding season, Vegas rolls on—bright lights, bruised dreams, and a whole lot of brisket. Some stories, like the best items behind the pawn shop counter, are worth far more than anyone first suspects.