attend a ball

Beaux-arts Ball, Freshman Year, Newhouse 3
Epic.

So I went to my first “ball.” It was supposed to have been a masquerade ball and my roommate and friends and I dressed up to the nines with our outfits and all hand-made masks only to arrive and realize that anything with the title ‘ball’ in Richmond has to be directly related to the Jefferson for it to actually be so. We arrived to find black lights and body-glow-paint and a slew of dj’s that played only techno the whole evening. We managed to have fun but it was definitely an expectation let down (not to mention attempting to dance to techno music in a wedding dress). I’ll have to post again the next time I get wind of a real ball.

So far my only chance of attending a ball has been with my friend Derek who’s in the Navy. Unfortunately I won’t be able to go because I’m leaving for CA later that week and I can’t afford so much time. No loss for Derek, I’m sure he’s still going with his new gf. The whole idea and his asking meant a lot though, especially since he had made it possible to invite Rick along as well.

If the food isn’t horrible, if your shoes don’t kill you, if your date has manners, if the music is decent … a ball is fabulous! OK, it’s good even if the food is bad, the music bad, or even if your date needs work… but the shoes? Wear flats if you have to- pain just won’t work!

A BALL. A real ball. A fancy gown and a tiara and jewels and gloves. Champagne-from-a-slipper ball. Even if I have to host if myself, I will go to one.