The Vampire Masquerade Ball
May. 27th, 2019 08:26 pmAfter five years, I made it to another Vampire Masquerade Ball at the Portland Art Museum.
When I was hanging out in the lobby at one point, I just happened to run into Lady Raven, the organizatrix of this whole shindig, as she closed her eyes and heaved what looked like a sigh of intense relief. Because I'm terrible, I told her, "I saw that sigh. It's beautiful. It's always beautiful." No lie: everything about this was right on, and even better than the previous two times I've been - '09 and '14. Venue? Better. Entertainment? Better. DJs? Better. Drink lines? Better. Vendors? Better, with at least double the number I saw five years ago. I'm lucky that scale mail top didn't fit me, but you know I have the vendor's card*.
Never seen an aerialist use chains before. That's gotta hurt.
But the real reason one goes to the VMB is to see what people wear. It's the Met Gala for Goths. Let's put it this way: I wore my 50th birthday outfit and I felt like I was slumming it. Part of the reason for that slummy feeling is that the Goth DIY ethos is at its gorgeously excessive peak with that crowd. Elaborate, often historically-inspired costumes made from scratch, or painstakingly modified, are the norm or close to it. I didn't take pictures because a) low, friendly lighting; b) I suck at remembering to take pictures; and c) I doubt I would have done much of it justice anyway.
Salacious details? I'm afraid I must disappoint you a little. There was some flirtation with the Temptress and customary hair pulling from a certain old Burning Man buddy, but no dance floor makeouts this time. I don't mind too terribly much, though.
For one thing, I think this VMB may have been magical for somebody besides me. I've been enjoined from saying anything too specific, but I think that a friend of mine who needs to do something to improve her situation has finally realized it. Most gratifying.
So I, uh, had a few vodka & Red Bulls in a successful attempt to stay awake until the party ended, specifically 0200. I got to bed Sunday a little after 0300. I woke up a little before 0700, and listened to my heart beat beat fast until it was time to get up, put on the Gallery Serpentine outfit, and check out by noon. In other words, caffeine really works on me and I definitely overdid it.
I did, however drive across Portland to have lovely brunch with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trystbat at Tasty 'n Daughters, which is the successor to the mysteriously closed Tasty 'n Sons that the Tickler took me too back in January. Yeah, it's a good brunch place so it took us half an hour to get a table - not the advertised 45 minutes - but the food was fab, and so was the conversation. Pity we're going to miss each other the next time I'm in the Bay Area.
I spent a little bit of time at Powell's withm_cobweb & darkmane, and then we bopped back up the freeway on a beautiful Sunday evening.
I oweaudrey_eee an apology for not even remembering to get in touch until I was on my way out of town. Moral: spend more time down there, and don't go through Portland like a dose of salts. Still, though, I'm glad I went.
*Yeah, I want a scale mail top for my next Burn. Just not right now.
When I was hanging out in the lobby at one point, I just happened to run into Lady Raven, the organizatrix of this whole shindig, as she closed her eyes and heaved what looked like a sigh of intense relief. Because I'm terrible, I told her, "I saw that sigh. It's beautiful. It's always beautiful." No lie: everything about this was right on, and even better than the previous two times I've been - '09 and '14. Venue? Better. Entertainment? Better. DJs? Better. Drink lines? Better. Vendors? Better, with at least double the number I saw five years ago. I'm lucky that scale mail top didn't fit me, but you know I have the vendor's card*.
Never seen an aerialist use chains before. That's gotta hurt.
But the real reason one goes to the VMB is to see what people wear. It's the Met Gala for Goths. Let's put it this way: I wore my 50th birthday outfit and I felt like I was slumming it. Part of the reason for that slummy feeling is that the Goth DIY ethos is at its gorgeously excessive peak with that crowd. Elaborate, often historically-inspired costumes made from scratch, or painstakingly modified, are the norm or close to it. I didn't take pictures because a) low, friendly lighting; b) I suck at remembering to take pictures; and c) I doubt I would have done much of it justice anyway.
Salacious details? I'm afraid I must disappoint you a little. There was some flirtation with the Temptress and customary hair pulling from a certain old Burning Man buddy, but no dance floor makeouts this time. I don't mind too terribly much, though.
For one thing, I think this VMB may have been magical for somebody besides me. I've been enjoined from saying anything too specific, but I think that a friend of mine who needs to do something to improve her situation has finally realized it. Most gratifying.
So I, uh, had a few vodka & Red Bulls in a successful attempt to stay awake until the party ended, specifically 0200. I got to bed Sunday a little after 0300. I woke up a little before 0700, and listened to my heart beat beat fast until it was time to get up, put on the Gallery Serpentine outfit, and check out by noon. In other words, caffeine really works on me and I definitely overdid it.
I did, however drive across Portland to have lovely brunch with
trystbat at Tasty 'n Daughters, which is the successor to the mysteriously closed Tasty 'n Sons that the Tickler took me too back in January. Yeah, it's a good brunch place so it took us half an hour to get a table - not the advertised 45 minutes - but the food was fab, and so was the conversation. Pity we're going to miss each other the next time I'm in the Bay Area.I spent a little bit of time at Powell's with
m_cobweb & darkmane, and then we bopped back up the freeway on a beautiful Sunday evening.I owe
audrey_eee an apology for not even remembering to get in touch until I was on my way out of town. Moral: spend more time down there, and don't go through Portland like a dose of salts. Still, though, I'm glad I went.*Yeah, I want a scale mail top for my next Burn. Just not right now.
