White Power

The first full weekend of school has wound down, with the Foam party and the White party both taking place. The less said about the Foam party, the better. Let's just say bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.

I did however love the White Party. Not quite as hardcore as P Diddy's version (Is it just Diddy now? Who can keep track?) in the Hamptons, not everyone dressed all in white. But I did, and I wore a white feather boa which my mother has urged me to get rid of during every move/closet purge in which she participated since my college graduation, the event for which it was originally purchased. She was right, but deep down I knew I'd wear it again someday. And sure enough, it just seemed sinful to own a white feather boa and NOT wear it to the White Party.

That boa made the night. It was worn by at least ten different people, most of them people you would not expect to be in feather boas. There are feathers littered all over the apartment where we gathered for pre-party cocktails (I was over there studying today). And most importantly, me wearing the boa somehow emboldened people I hadn't met yet to come up and start talking to me for no reason, and not the typical b-school conversations. These are more like 'drunk guy' conversations, with really bad/borderline creepy pick up lines. No, "So, where were you living before school?" Instead, "You must be a Brazilian girl, I can tell by the way you shake it on the dance floor." Another actually detailed an entire outfit I wore three days ago to another event, though I had never met him before. Good thing I hid mace in my boa.