Not really saints

It has been a while since the Elite Alumni have gotten together and with High Kick in town for the holidays we thought we should hold an Elite Alumni Reunion (E.A.R.). Being that most reunions are in the summer, we opted for a holiday theme:  Feast Day of the Immaculate Conception – an Italian tradition that involves feasts (appetizers and drinks), traditional singing (karaoke), bonfires (On My Terms smoking), and parades (loitering on my neighborhood streets). A few weeks before the big day, I suggested one more element to the event: vintage cocktail attire.

I grabbed my grandma’s pillbox hat, my secondhand shoes and dress, put the old fashioned (not to be confused with just ‘old’) candy in the candy dish, poured myself a White Russian, and waited for my guests. As the guests arrived, I was quickly reminded of SchoolGirlOke – the karaoke event where Tree and I were the only people in costume; however, this time, it was just me. Oh well, as a very well known Italian, Gianni Versace, once said, “I’m trying to break the border between chic and shock.” I had no idea I would soon not be alone in this effort.

The evening went as planned – eating, drinking, singing, smoking, loitering (we kept it to the stoop and property lines due to the inclement weather) – with only a few unexpected events. Our good friend, High Kick, who we hadn’t seen for at least 10 or 15 years arrived ready to celebrate. She hadn’t noticed the cocktail attire notation on the invite, however, immediately wanted to take a look at the costume box for an outfit. Once we found her a dress, the celebration of the immaculate conception really began.
Many are confused about the meaning of immaculate conception and think it has something to do with the virgin birth of Jesus. Not so. It refers solely to the  fact that, since her own birth, the Virgin Mary was entirely free of original sin. Although we hadn’t seen High Kick for many years, we have seen her uplifting and peaceful posts on facebook. Thus, we all assumed it would be a relatively mellow celebration. We were so wrong. We quickly learned about High Kick what we already knew about ourselves, we are not really saints.

Within an hour or so of changing into a dress, she wanted to change into another dress and wanted Bruiser to join her. Bruiser hesitantly obliged and was soon donning a lovely dress once worn at PromOke. In Bruiser’s attempt to meet the vintage cocktail request, she had worn a short jacket with a fur collar (which High Kick tossed across the room) and bright red lipstick. As High Kick was persuading Bruiser to lay on the bed, in her dress, and do multiple high kicks – her signature move throughout the evening – she became consumed by Bruiser’s lipstick. “What is this? We are not in New York. You have got to take this off!” High Kick said while ferociously rubbing Bruiser’s lips. “It’s stay on lipstick,” Bruiser advised. “You have got to get it together,” High Kick told her and then instructed, “Now, kick!”

We retreated upstairs where the others had remained and were able to hear the basement shenanigans. High Kick made her way to the laps of On My Terms and Scared and, as she had been doing throughout the evening, demanded photos. I started snapping and High Kick directed poses. “You’re not smiling in any of the pictures,” High Kick told Scared. “I have the same look in every one,” Scared replied and added, “Scared.”

As the evening progressed, perhaps regressed is a better word, High Kick decided to join On My Terms for a cigarette – something she does not normally do. Not So Little Man and I thought this would be a great opportunity to film a Stoop Ed and immediately pulled out the flashlight (for lighting), fur coats (for warmth), hipster glasses (for credibility) and two cameras (for angles). Although we didn’t really learn one specific thing on the stoop, we got a lot of little tidbits and are considering titling the lesson, “Trainwreck. Keep Watching.” Just before ending the filming, High Kick told On My Terms, “I’m going to let you come back.” “To where?” On My Terms asked. “Reality,” High Kick answered. “I’m the only one here,” On My Terms quipped.

It was true, at that specific moment in time, On My Terms appeared to be the only one in ‘reality.’ A few minutes later, however, reality was out the door and we were again celebrating like it was not only Feast Day of the Immaculate Conception, but like it was 1999. As we, and Prince, have said before, “If you didn’t come 2 party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door.”