A party? How exciting! I dabbled with organising events some years back, so I've taken this task quite seriously. Some might say too seriously.
I don't really care.
I'm completely self-indulgent, so I'd like to party like it's 1992, not 1999, in a bid to recreate my heady student days.
The theme - Indie disco.
The vibe - Dark and dingy. Sticky carpets (should be fine in here, I've watched Tippler knock stuff over and not clear up). Full ashtrays. Wafts of joss sticks, dope and perfume oils, including the BodyShop's White Musk. Lots of black and purple. An aura of angst and misery, coupled with youthful anticipation, in the air.
The dress code -
Girls - long, swishy skirts or extremely short skirts, worn with "bodies" (those leotard-like things which cut you in half, and make it almost impossible to go for a pee) or crocheted tops, woolly tights, DM boots, and cardigans belonging to one's boyfriend. Or father. Preferably with a hole in the sleeve. Love beads. Dangly silver earrings. Bonus points to be awarded for mirrors or tassels anywhere about one's person.
Boys - jeans or combat trousers, t-shirt featuring an obscure band's logo, DM boots, army greatcoat or vintage leather jacket. In fact, vintage was just called plain second-hand in those days. Leather thong bracelets. Friendship bands. Bonus points to be awarded if someone actually died in your clothes.
The drinks - Snakebite and blackcurrant. Lager, lager, lager. Diamond White. Southern Comfort and lemonade. Pernod.
The food - Chips and cheese. Only to be eaten at the very end of the evening.
The music - The playlist. Or at least the first 10 tracks. Because I'm too lazy to think beyond that. And everyone will be too pissed to care by the time they're done.
The Pixies - Gigantic, Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit, Jane's Addiction - Been Caught Stealing, The Cure - In Between Days, The Smiths - This Charming Man, Metallica - Enter Sandman, Ned's Atomic Dustbin - Happy, Dee-Lite - Groove is in the Heart, The House of Love - I Don't Know Why I Love You, The Violent Femmes - Add It Up
(I don't want any smart comments about these being out of synch with the year. My party, my playlist.)
The dancing - Looking primarily towards the floor, shaking one's hair, shuffling around. I believe it was known as "shoe-gazing", back in the day.
The end of the affair - At least one girl crying in the toilet (probably me). Minimum of two people being sick. One lost handbag/purse (which should be a hessian-y affair, heavy on the embroidery front). No taxis. Which is a good job, because we ain't going nowhere.
Not until next week, at least.
Let's Get the Party Started - Pink