One day we will be free.
Jul. 16th, 2003 07:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gordonzolaI got to the party and saw a couple of friends sitting on the wooden, Victorian, second floor stairs. They weren’t even smoking but they were sitting outside, that’s what a nice San Francisco night it was. It was early and I hadn’t seen them for awhile so I sat with them and opened my paper-bagged beer.
The door to the party apartment was propped open slightly and I could hear music playing. It was something incredibly familiar that I hadn’t heard in years but obviously had listened to a lot. It was faint. I couldn’t quite make it out. But I knew the melody. I managed to small talk but my brain was trying to connect the dots and figure out what the hell it was. I knew it well but couldn’t remember if I loved it or hated it so I didn’t ask my friends if they knew it. I didn’t want to commit.
Guests started arriving and they looked slightly off: polka dots, mullets, smeared and bright cheekbone make up. Oh shit, I forgot this was an ‘80s party. My stair-sitting friends weren’t dressed up either, a reason besides the weather to be sitting outside. Context is everything though, as soon as I realized the theme of the party, the name of the song I was hearing came to me in a flash. "Go Nowhere" by Reagan Youth.* At least the DJ was celebrating the best of the ‘80s.
I hate theme parties. Themes and costumes just distract from people, which is the real point of parties. If you need your inhibitions lowered, just drink some more. If you need a costume to start a conversation, practice talking in front of a mirror. But don’t expect me to look like an idiot to balance your poor social skills. Especially to honor a decade that was so horrible to live through the first time.
But really I don’t believe those things. I’m just too lazy to ever dress up. That’s the sad truth.
The word about the party theme obviously hadn’t spread too far anyway. Maybe a third of the people were actually dressed decade-appropriately. This actually made it more fun though because some of the guests could have gone either way. Is retro your lifestyle choice or your dress for the evening?
A few hours into the party I watched as three twenty-somethings arrived together. They had much of the ‘80s attire down pat: off-centered belts, yep. Big jagged stripes? You bet. Shirt strap over one shoulder? Uh huh. But they looked upset. Something was wrong. The woman in front surveyed the kitchen full of drunk older party-goers,** their get-ups starting to droop from dance sweat and the crowded conditions.
She turned to one of her friends, just loud enough for me to hear her as I waited for the bathroom, "Look at all these 30 year olds trying to look hip and electroclash. Gross." They took another look around and headed back towards the front door.
*A song which starts with the enormously subtle New York accented Q & A: "Where you going tonight boy?"
"I’m not going fucking nowhere." Ah, the ‘80s.
** You could tell the people who really lived through the ‘80s because when DJ Dianarama played Nina Hagen, instead of some Flock of Seagulls bullshit, they were the ones filling the dance floor.
The door to the party apartment was propped open slightly and I could hear music playing. It was something incredibly familiar that I hadn’t heard in years but obviously had listened to a lot. It was faint. I couldn’t quite make it out. But I knew the melody. I managed to small talk but my brain was trying to connect the dots and figure out what the hell it was. I knew it well but couldn’t remember if I loved it or hated it so I didn’t ask my friends if they knew it. I didn’t want to commit.
Guests started arriving and they looked slightly off: polka dots, mullets, smeared and bright cheekbone make up. Oh shit, I forgot this was an ‘80s party. My stair-sitting friends weren’t dressed up either, a reason besides the weather to be sitting outside. Context is everything though, as soon as I realized the theme of the party, the name of the song I was hearing came to me in a flash. "Go Nowhere" by Reagan Youth.* At least the DJ was celebrating the best of the ‘80s.
I hate theme parties. Themes and costumes just distract from people, which is the real point of parties. If you need your inhibitions lowered, just drink some more. If you need a costume to start a conversation, practice talking in front of a mirror. But don’t expect me to look like an idiot to balance your poor social skills. Especially to honor a decade that was so horrible to live through the first time.
But really I don’t believe those things. I’m just too lazy to ever dress up. That’s the sad truth.
The word about the party theme obviously hadn’t spread too far anyway. Maybe a third of the people were actually dressed decade-appropriately. This actually made it more fun though because some of the guests could have gone either way. Is retro your lifestyle choice or your dress for the evening?
A few hours into the party I watched as three twenty-somethings arrived together. They had much of the ‘80s attire down pat: off-centered belts, yep. Big jagged stripes? You bet. Shirt strap over one shoulder? Uh huh. But they looked upset. Something was wrong. The woman in front surveyed the kitchen full of drunk older party-goers,** their get-ups starting to droop from dance sweat and the crowded conditions.
She turned to one of her friends, just loud enough for me to hear her as I waited for the bathroom, "Look at all these 30 year olds trying to look hip and electroclash. Gross." They took another look around and headed back towards the front door.
*A song which starts with the enormously subtle New York accented Q & A: "Where you going tonight boy?"
"I’m not going fucking nowhere." Ah, the ‘80s.
** You could tell the people who really lived through the ‘80s because when DJ Dianarama played Nina Hagen, instead of some Flock of Seagulls bullshit, they were the ones filling the dance floor.
- Joy Division - Thanks dcart
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 08:59 am (UTC)Too bad you were waiting to go into the bathroom. Someone should have "accidently" spilled their drink all over her hip electroclash outfit.
Or better yet, thrown a drink in her face.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 11:53 pm (UTC)