Weekend in fancy dress

Lesson 1: Fancy Dress

Let's say you're planning on going to a Halloween party.

Suppose that, in preparation, a Brit asks you if this party is 'fancy dress.'

Be advised that your answer should not allude to the following:

- business casual
- prom
- formal wear in general.

Fancy dress is, in fact, a term for costumes. Those crazy brits.

Thus became my weekend in fancy dress.

Being that it was in fact all hallows eve and being that I was the American in the flat who birthed the holiday, my dear flatmates wanted to make sure that we did Halloween right or, at least, at all.

We were signed up for a 48-hour Halloween party in the East End. 10pounds at the door, 6, if you're in fancy dress.

I couldn't let the brits down so I imported some friends who brought their Halloween A-game. One friend brought a full hot dog suit in her carry on, the other friend donned buns and some Princess Leia boots and called on every foreign friend she knew. Together we brought the party.

The hot dog, Princess Leia and I, Terminator,

entered into a slutty and/or goth-covered London and turned their eyeliner-crusted gaze around to a Halloween with real fancy dress.

The party, as it turned out, was a bit of a rave, not quite fitting a hot dog, Princess Laia and Terminator but we made it work and had us a time.

Not to be outdone, our days were lavishly filled with once-pricey and ridiculous activities that we somehow got for free.

There was the little excursion to the O2 center for some Ice Capades. The hot dog's friend tours with the show and she asked if we'd like to come.

Ice skating? Disney? yes please.

We had no idea what show we had signed ourselves up for until we got off the tube and followed about 100 munchkin-sized princesses to the door.


With our 'Ariel All-Access' pass in hand

we were officially the oldest Disney fans without fancy dress and the youngest childless ladies (though we did try to pass the hot dog off as our adult child) at the Princess Wishes Disney on Ice show.

But, man, we were with the band - the Disney on ice band - and it was killer. That's right, all access meant we got to walk behind the stage and check out all the props and tiny skaters in major makeup and little sweatpants. AND we knew Jasmine.


I mean, there's like 45 three year-olds who were clambering for those Ariel passes, trying to swap me their half-eaten bagel just for a feel. Babies, please. This is my due, just 25 years too late.

And Saturday we went to a rugby game. The hot dog, Princess Leia and I all played rugby in college so watching this dirty, sometimes brutal game was a blast! Not to mention I had some vague idea of what was going on down on the field.



Besides the action and besides the moon walking mascot bear, the best part about the game was that the line for the ladies bathroom was significantly shorter than the men's! I've never seen anything like it. A first.

We rounded off the weekend with many a beer in many a pubs, a few wrong turns down some narrow London streets and a slightly, regrettable walk through Oxford Circus on a Sunday through a swarm of crowds.

It was a delight.