If you host a Fancy Dress Party you must dress up.

I am devastated to note that this is my first blog story since October last year. When I started Blogging in September 20I2 I used to write three, four and sometimes five stories a month. Now I seem to be lucky to get out one story in five months. I humbly  apologise to you, my dedicated Reader. I can only lamely say I have been regularly writing on Facebook. A weak excuse, I agree. So…once more into the breach!

On Saturday mornings I enjoy reading the weekly columns of Belle Taylor who is also the editor of the West Australian newspaper’s Saturday Magazine. Last week Belle wrote a story about Modern  Good Manners and invited readers’ feedback. One responding reader chose to be anonymous. Belle called him Pete. I can relate to Anonymous Pete’s response. He wrote, “If you host a fancy dress party you must dress up.”

Well, that seems obvious. Why would anyone host a fancy dress party and not turn up in fancy dress. I recall that in 1963 I was living with five other Aussies in a house in Toronto. Almost every Saturday night was Party Night. One time we decided to have a party with a Mexican theme. Everybody came along in some sort of Mexican rig. Around 11 0'clock a journalist mate of ours turned up. He had just knocked off and was dressed in a blue suit and tie. Not very Mexican. I quickly whisked him into the bathroom and removed his coat and tie and  splashed water all over the back. I then steered him back to the party and introduced him as Miguel, our late arriving Mexican Wetback. For those who may not know wetback is a Mexican who has tried to enter the United States by swimming across the  Rio Grande

But back to  Anonymous Pete’s warning. Obviously he has suffered because somebody called a fancy dress party but but did not dress accordingly.  I, too,  was a victim of this cruel practice. It nearly ruined my life. 

In the mid sixties a fiend of mine said his girlfriend was in a group  called The Guide Dogs for Blind Younger Set or something like that. His girlfriend lived in  Dalkeith. He said she was in a group of ladies who arranged social events to raise money for charity. Always keen to support a compelling cause, I fronted up on a wintry Saturday night to a large  rustic barn somewhere south of Beaconsfield for a Tom Jones  Fancy Dress Party.

Tom Jones was the popular movie of the day, starring the great Albert Finney. I was not disappointed. Inside the barn was a throng of mainly twenty somethings all dressed as if they had just stepped of the Tom Jones movie set. The sounds of The Beatles,  Chuck Berry and others had the crowd rocking and shaking.                                                                                                                                                                 

 Most of the blokes sported white shirts  that were unbuttoned just north of their navels. They were wearing the tightest pair of pants that they owned with the trouser legs tucked in to long white socks that came up to their knees. Around their waists they wore broad black belts or had tied colourful sashes where a belt should be. The young ladies wore long skirts and variously coloured, unbuttoned blouses that provided very scenic views for those of us who were connoisseurs of cleavage. That was me and all the males present. There was a table at one end where cheeky young wenches dispensed mulled wine and mulled ale, for a small fee of  course.                                                                                                        

Well, I had a great time. At work  the following Monday I told a beautiful girl that I was very keen to impress about the Tom Jones Fancy Dress Party. She was impressed. I convinced her that whenever the Younger Set for Whatever organised another event that we should go along as a foursome with another couple we were friendly with.    

About two months later my friend said his girlfriend and her Younger Set group were organising a Gypsy Night. When I asked if it was in the same run down barn he said it was in function hall near Bindaring Parade in Cottesloe. Something should have twigged but it never did.

I arranged for our friendly foursome to attend the Gypsy Fancy Dress Party. The two ladies asked about dress requirements. I told of  the impressive array of fancy dresses at the Tom Jones party and said that we would all need to look like gypsies. They went to a fancy dress store and hired some gypsy clothes.  We turned up at the event with the two girls looking like the sultry Marlene Dietrich who starred as a gypsy in the popular 1950s movie, Golden Earrings. 

Big Mistake. All of the young ladies in the Younger Set for Something or Other were dressed in very fashionable long evening dresses and the fellows were in rather expensive party casual. Needless to say the two girls in our foursome were less than impressed with me. We found a remote corner of the hall where we sat in embarrassed isolation.We left after an hour or so.

I was mortified. Why would people announce a themed fancy dress party and then rock up dressed for a Vogue photoshoot? After the deep embarrassment of that night I had my work well and truly cut out making any progress with the beautiful girl that I was trying to impress. However, I persevered in my efforts to impress and all’s well that ends well.  I I August I will have been married to that beautiful girl for the last 55 years. In  all that time we have never been to another fancy dress party.

 

Enjoy