I went to a movie gala with my husband.
I wore weird mutant jelly fish silicone pasties on my tits.
Then I wore a dress on top of those, don’t worry.
A friend of mine started a new events and promotions company. She was organising the gala, and asked me to do tissue poppies for decor and bouttonieres for the guys in the film.
Total bouttoniere failure- the roses I used were too heavy and big. They would have been marvellous back in the 70s, when men had enormous lapels and moustaches to balance out such things. But in our day and age, these bad boys hung crooked, then they blew open and became even more comically large. The guys in the film all wore them with good humour. My husband chose the biggest, craziest one and wore it with genuine pride. It’s the stupid little things that remind you why you love someone.
Also felt better when I found out one of the theatre staff liked the paper flowers I made so much, she asked if she could have them for a party the next day.
Floral disasters aside, I can’t stop smiling. Can’t stop looking at everyone’s pictures. It was a magical evening, no hyperbole. Everyone in tuxes and evening gowns. We took a limo from the bar to the door, then there were pipers and a red carpet. Photographers. Tons of people. Felt so Hollywood.
At the after party, I drank a little too much celebratory champagne and demanded that a group of friends take me out for fucking hamburgers. We stumbled down the main street trying to find a place that was open, saluting other formally dressed wedding and bar mitzvah guests we passed. Found a place that was open and ate the best hamburger of my life.
Still on a high from the evening.
My friend who organised the event asked me to become a partner in her new events company.
I said YES. xoxoxoxoxoxoxox