My first year, it was on a boat in the Hudson. Cocktails + boat motion= bad bad idea. I was fine. Some clients were puking in the latrine. Happy holidays!
Last year, it was the famous (and amazingly tacky) Tavern on the Green. Right before they filed bankruptcy and closed their doors forever.
This year: the also famous Boathouse. Scene of Carrie and Big falling in the water.
Definitely a tres classy place and one I've always wanted to go to. Yet the attire this year had a new twist: "Festive Black Tie" Say whaaat? First off, it's generally always quasi fancy business attire. Last year, I wore a pencil skirt and sparkly top. Oh, and we were all expected to be creative [ugh] and there would be prizes involved. After bitching to my mom about how the only "festive" cocktail dresses I own are bright blue, she said "Duh, be Hanukah." BRILLZ! I thought about dressing it up with glitz but it really needed a proper Hebrew schtick to seal the deal. And then it came to me: The MENORAH TIARA. So I googled this, but of course, it does not exist. I would have to fashion my own. Behold:
|The Menorah Tiara. Holiday 2010 exclusive|
Oh, then my schnockered partner, Karina, thought it would be a FABULOUS idea to light the appropriate amount of candles:
|Hello, wax in hair.|
And, just so you know I wasn't completely alone in my festive idiocy, here's a few other pics of clients:
|ACTUAL color scheme|
|Snowman peep bolo tie|
Oh, what a night.
And clearly one that required LOTS of social lubrication to make it through. The party was a total success and the "young/fun people" of course weren't ready to split once the band stopped playing. So we headed down to the divey (and in my hood!) Spring Lounge to keep the party going. Oh, did I mention that my boss came with us? Did I also mention that he was reeal druuunky-drunk? Hi:
Yep, that's what 2am post-party looks like. He finally stumbled home but the rest of us powered on. And let me tell you, when you arrive at a bar post 1am in a strapless blue cocktail dress and tiara...well, it's just almost too easy. There were several hottie pattoties to choose from in the bar. I was going back and forth between two [who I later discovered were in the same band!] for awhile, until I realized just how wasted one of them was. How did I know? At one point he turned and looked at me, as if for the first time, and proclaimed "Wow, you're HOT!" Then, as I leaned over to grab a cocktail from the bar he started making out with my shoulder. NEXT! The other musician, who we'll call Drummer Boy, was actually way hotter and, more importantly, capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation. AND tall and Jewish to boot! And thus begins the trail of Lindsey's in-bar makeouts. [More stories to come]. I really thought that phase of my life ended 10 years ago, but ooohwwee! It's fun. Especially at 3am in a dive bar when you just don't care. So Drummer Boy and I left in search of some late night food, and ended up at mi casa for some slumberiffic fun. [I know what you're thinking-- I kept it pretty classy this time!]. And he made it a point to get my number so...we'll see. Could be good for a lil' fling-thing!
Don't worry, pretties. You'll be the first to know...
Lesson: if you're lookin' for some lovin, the later you go out, the luckier you will be...