After a great Friday (more on that another time, once I get pictures) I was wondering how the rest of the weekend would turn out, but I needn’t have worried, I had an awesome time. Last week I got invited to a fund-raising party, a 1980s themed one at that, and I’ve been excessively excited ever since. Saturday night was the night of the party, and having spent the entire week previous gathering and scouring shops for the bits and pieces I needed for my costume, I couldn’t wait to get glammed up and get going.
I got to my friend’s house in the early evening, knowing that the party was due to end at midnight and wanting to have enough time to get changed and get ready. We had a bit of a laugh and I changed into my costume which consisted of knee-length black leather(ish) boot tops, black trousers with a couple of belts at various angles, a flouncy, frilly black shirt, a black tricorn hat and some silk scarves hung from the waist. Oh, and the obligatory flintlock pistol. I was pretty pleased with it so far, but the true topping off came with the make-up. My friend (Roller Disco Queen or RDQ from hereon in) graciously accepted the task of applying my war paint, as I have zero experience in wearing any (shocking, I know). While RDQ had her hair crimped in a manner befitting the decade of the evening, she contended with my face. “Don’t try to not blink” was the advice I was given while having what felt like my eyeball drawn on, and I think it actually worked. Not because I didn’t try to not blink, but because just trying to figure out what that meant left me confused and too distracted to flinch and squirm. I’ll admit that hearing other people saying “That’s not enough eye make-up, more silver” terrified me a bit, I had visions of finding a really bad transvestite looking back at me from the mirror. I should have had a lot more faith though, once I was decorated it was just perfect! One of the reasons for it looking so good was that earlier in the day I had made the ultimate sacrifice and shaved my beard off! For the first time in around 7 or 8 years I have a naked chin and it feels weird!
(despite how the photo looks, I wasn’t actually terrified)
I’ve wanted to dress up as Adam Ant for a long, long time. Why, I don’t really know, I’ve never really been grabbed by any other character or star in the past, not to the same extent. Although the costume wasn’t 100% perfect – I couldn’t find a good military-style doublet and didn’t get around to trimming my tricorn with gold brocade – I’m still really pleased with how it turned out. RDQ was looking suitably garish with every single colour represented, and I’m pretty sure there were even a couple of new ones! We set off into Falmouth, no-one really knowing where we were actually going but having ‘a rough idea’. This was the part of the evening I was most nervous about if any, as I knew at 7.30 in the evening the town would still be very busy. However, as my character for the evening would’ve been the first to say, ‘ridicule is nothing to be scared of’, and I’m sure at the very least the sight of ’80s throwbacks meandering and roller-skating through the streets was something a bit different from the norm. After negotiating a very steep hill (which was precariously close to the harbourfront) without even a semblance of style or grace, we found the place!
We were just about the first people there, much to the delight of the hostess. The party was thrown as a bit of a fundraiser and a thank-you for people who helped when her daughter needed treatment from the local childrens’ cancer service. All are well now thankfully, and slowly the small bar started to fill up. The costumes ranged from the very easy, little effort attempts, mostly involving lots of denim, braces and legwarmers to the more elaborate. Crockett and Tubbs from Miami Vice turned up and were hard to move from the dance floor, but I think it’s fair to say that the
car steed driven ridden by the Dandy Highwayman brought the people who most threw themselves into the spirit of the evening the most (and almost certainly spent the most on their costumes). There was a second Adam Ant there, but in fairness he had turned up as ‘Prince Charming’ Adam Ant as opposed to my ‘Stand And Deliver’ incarnation.
Much to my amazement RDQ only went over once, but I was in no place to laugh, not after my own moment of stupidity earlier. The small bar the party was in had no snacks of any kind, so we were sent over to the main bar. As if negotiating a pub full of ‘normal’ people dressed like that isn’t bad enough, as I came out someone shouted ‘Cheers Adam!’ in my direction, so I stopped and stared. As I was looking I was thinking ‘I don’t know this person, how does he know me? Maybe it’s just someone I haven’t seen for ages…. No, I really don’t know him… Maybe I’ve been staring at him for too long now….‘. It wasn’t until I got back in the other bar that I shamefully realised he didn’t know my name after all, as I remembered who I was dressed as…
Nevertheless, a good time was had by all. Sadly it finished at 12, and the DJ was frankly rubbish (honestly, who turns up to play an ’80s night with no Adam Ant, no Billie Jean and a lot of other noticeable absentees), but those were the only downers. We chatted, sang and danced like demons, partying like it was the mid-eighties. Great Days.