Halloween Scary Hair Ball - Tacky Party
I just got back from the most hilarious and original Halloween party. It was a Halloween Scary Hair Ball. What's a Scary Hair Ball you ask? Let me tell you…
The invitation I received in the post said that I was invited to a “Scary Hair Ball” – 'a gaudy, tasteless party where everyone leaves their troubles at home, loosens up and enjoys All Hallows Eve in tacky style'. The party invitation set the tone immediately. It was handcrafted on wrinkled paper and included misspelled words, smudges and small tears. It arrived in a used envelope that had an old address blacked out and new stamp put on…brilliant.
Guests were instructed to wear the tackiest costumes they could come up with. We were encouraged to visit garage sales and charity shops to find truly hideous articles of clothing. Can you say yellow and brown plaid pants? How about a green ruffled dress shirt with brown polyester pants? You get the idea.
When I arrived at the party I was greeted by a pair of shoddy hosts decked out in matching style. He wore a pair of white polyester pants, two different coloured shoes, a polka dot shirt unbuttoned to his diaphragm, and large black rimmed eyeglasses that magnified his eyes. She wore a tight tweed skirt with matching short jacket, silk camisole, torn stockings, fake eyelashes, smeared lipstick and tousled unwashed hair. We exchanged pleasantries (“you look great – where did you get those pants?” ha! ha!), and I made my way into the party.
Everyone acted as tactlessly as possible, forgoing manners and speaking without reservation. Guests adopted sloppy eating habits, scratched themselves in obnoxious places and used their pinky finger to clean their teeth, ears and nose. It was fun letting loose and acting gross. One guest, dressed in a floppy sixties hat, big rimmed sunglasses and beaten up flip flops, totally became her character. She sauntered up to me and with tilted head and shrugged shoulders went into an explanation of her roots.
The party decorations reflected the theme more than Halloween. There were some pumpkins (rotten) and ghosts (missing an eye) and skeletons (missing some bones). But vulgar and shabby props were the mainstay. There were toilet paper streamers, plastic animals that included squirrels and deer, dirty linens and clothes strewn over the settee and ratty old pillows thrown about. The large dining table included paper towels for napkins, a mixture of metal and plastic tableware, and empty soup cans for cups. Bologna sandwiches, chips and dip and apples half peeled with caramel for dipping were available for our dining pleasure. Dessert was blood red jelly and ice cream.
There was a bartender, adorned with fake chest hair and mustache, v-neck striped shirt and, I think, boxer shorts with happy faces – I didn't want to look to closely. He served drinks in an assortment of odd glasses, some with dirty fingerprints, others with lipstick on the rim. I convinced myself it was just pretend but nonetheless drank my beverage through a straw – crazy straw that is.
There was an official Scary Hair Ball drink. It looked like a cross between chocolate milk and guava juice, but tasted delicious. Everyone had to try it once. On the rocks was the preferred way.
This was a ball so there had to be dancing. A DJ in the corner of the living room took requests, played bad 80's music, got everyone grooving and commented on their attire. It was announced there would be prizes for the tackiest behaviour and ugliest costume, so guests were asked to take note of those around them. There was paper and pen for writing down your favourites and a melted Tupperware bowl for casting your vote. Winners would be announced at the end of the evening.
I got down and dirty on the dance floor with the girl in the floppy sixties hat. She finally stopped talking and started grooving. Our eyes held each other's gaze, and I thought maybe I'll get lucky tonight. She seemed interested and I hoped it wasn't my outfit that got her turned on. Another girl, dressed in an evening gown with black army boots and enough make-up for three others, joined us a few minutes later. She impressed her way upon us with equal attention and I thought I'd won the lottery. How great was this?
With a girl on each arm, I made my way to the “lounge.” The garage had been converted into a rest area, complete with red velvet couch, bean bag chairs, lava lamps, and more dirty and disgusting decorations – dusty crates, dead plants, garbage spilling out of trash bags. Our hosts came by to chat and we complimented them on pulling off an original and fun Halloween party.
I had one important question. “Why is it called the Scary Hair Ball?” I asked. To which my friend replied, “Have you seen my wife's hair?” We all laughed and he added, “It looks good tonight.”