So, I simply must continue this post. Not, I hope it is apparent, with any sense of envy, or jealousy, or deprecation of the follies of extravagance. No, I am thoroughly awed by the creative power of this party; of the way this family took a joke and pushed it through to its logical and exhuberant end. This was a party as presented by clever and witty people, who had the talent and the organization to assure that it all came off. This is a party put on by people who love to entertain, who love their friends and most of all their family, and who love to celebrate that affection in a generous and inclusive way.
This is a party put on by people I simply must get to know.
When I dropped the Pony off at the entrance, I was behind another vehicle. She could have hopped out outside the covered entrance, but she insisted "You have to drive all the way up so I can get out like a movie star." Well, but of course! Even I thought so. Pony hopped out--and I heard or saw the rest when I came back to pick her up.
Once inside the doors, there was--in actual fact--a red carpet, lined with white lights. Along the red carpet were the evenings' DJs, holding giant fake microphones bearing logos of different broadcasters, asking Oscar-type questions.
DJ: What are you wearing tonight?
DJ: What company are they from?
Pony: My mom and my aunt!
The entry was decorated with another illuminated sign to match the one outside; "Windsor Unleashed!" There were posters from other, REAL, movies as well: Talledega Nights, Borat, Dukes of Hazzard, Batman Begins. To one side was a concession stand with a uniformed attendant and an array of movie sized candy inside a glass case.
Inside the party room were scattered tables with mock movie camera, film reels, and other movie accessories. There was a popcorn machine, a dance floor, an area decorated with "Windsor's Hood" on it. (Hip-hop has never been more Caucasian.)
In one corner stood a giant ice sculpture of a movie camera, with an ice tube. I saw one of these at the Governor's Inaugural Ball for the first time. They are designed for martinis--the bartender pours the drink in the top, it slides down the inside of the sculpture to be captured in a glass at the base--perfectly icy cold. Take that, James Bond--neither shaken nor stirred. For this party the drinks were "Windsor-tinis;" Shirley temples served in short champagne glasses.
There was a photo shoot, complete with costumes, with photos encased in a mat designed like a movie clapboard. Pony brought home a picture of herself and three buddies posing as Charlies Angels, using their fingers as guns. People willing to dance were rewarded with Mardi Gras beads. Plastic tambourines with patterned lights were distributed as favors.
I was delighted for the Pony to have this kind of experience with her entire 7th grade class. I was (petty, I know, but still!) briefly grateful for not being Jewish, so I didn't have to compare myself to the clever people who pulled this one off.