Saturday, September 26, 2009

The Surreal Life

It was to be a Surrealist Ball, or so the invitation read. But before selecting an outfit for the evening, I thought back to the last time I'd attended a party with a themed devised by Miss Prickett. It was another birthday party, then for Mr. Corsin. The theme, Suicide Idol.

That night, after carefully creating a Hunter S. Thompson costume, I ended up standing at the Beaver in khaki shots, two months too early for spring, with only Sid Vicious to talk to. Luckily, just hours before the ball was scheduled to begin, a message arrived in my inbox reading: "for dress, try to think shocking pink, schiaparelli, lobsters, man ray, trompe l'oeil, and ballets russes. and if you can't dress up, you can still get down."

Translating said message to "attire optional", I put on a navy matador jacket and a striped tie and headed out the door. Blending into a crowd of bunny ears, femme fatales, and birdcage broads, I slipped into the themeatic venue, Salvador Darling. Hours later, after an evening of '90s R&B and disco-pop, I downed one last jack-and-coke, hugged the hostess and hurtled myself into a cab.

Hope you had a surreal birthday, Sarah.

*original outfit follows

Man with moustache, floating through frame
The bottom of the birthday suit: bare feet
Bright young things
The dukes and dames of hazard
Back in black
Look closely for reference points, is all I'm saying
Kavin, getting into trouble
And, of course, the birdcage

2 comments:

paiiige said...

seriously, the birdcage purse was my favourite part! happy happy, miss snp!

Jenn said...

Ahh leave it to SNP to have the best looking guestlist since... well... ever?

Russ, that finger stache will have to make a secondary appearance - too good.