Saturday ~ July 18, 2004
So, last Saturday was one of the best nights ever.
Shannon and I decided to skip the party in the city and play dress up. After we tried on several dresses each, we decided to wear dresses that hadn't been out to play for 50 years. Shannon wore a cream dress with big roses in muted colors that were set off by her auburn hair. Mine had a white bodice with a flower and tomato print skirt. Both bodices were fitted (read barely enough room to breathe) with big poofy skirts that loved to swish and spin. Under the skirts were several layers of crinolin - very important. She's wearing sexy black strappy sandles. I'm wearing my little red dance shoes and a red scarf.
We head to Menlo Park.
Our first stop is Left Bank. Here we enjoyed a delectable Valrohna chocolate cake with espresso ice cream and drops of raspberry sauce - as well as the attentions of a cute French waiter. Then we decided that the British Banker's Club is perhaps ready for us. The BBC is perhaps one of the stodgiest looking bars around. It is actually set in an old bank, with big stained glass windows, oversized red leather chairs and a long dark wood bar. But Saturday night, the BBC had swirling lights and a live band playing - a grunge music 90s cover band - composed of cute young men in button down white shirts, loosened ties and spikey hair. (Just setting the scene.)
This is where is gets great - because it was already damn good.
Shannon and I are giddy with how wonderful it is to be girls. We feel every bit of the beautiful free-spirited playful women we are. AND we're wearing fabulous dresses.
So - we dance. for three hours. to Nirvana, Cake, Weezer. Bopping, jumping, stomping, spinning, twirling, swooshing. In our grandmother's dresses that thought they only know how to jitterbug and fox trot.
And we have a fan club. After the first set and we're walking off the dance floor, an older couple, probably in their late 50s/early 60s, come up to us. They've been watching and had already complimented Shannon on how elegant she looked, like Audrey Hepburn. The man then says, You're so much woman you scare all of the guys in this place. The women smiles and nods. We're grinning because this is the best compliment either of us have ever received - so much woman! Wow. Realizing our feminine spirit happen to be one of our favorite topics of conversation. This is a huge affirmation.
And the older couple is right. We hadn't been approached by any slimey men all night. It was great! Any one who did talk to us was respectful and normal. The dresses seem to announce (loudly) the we didn't really give a damn what anyone thought. that we were supremely happy already and having fun with or without any male attention.
The best part of the whole night though was the other women. So many of them came up to us and said how much they loved our dresses and that they wished they could dance like us. The more we danced, the mor other women danced and had fun. Our boldness seemed to give them the courage and space to step away from the wall. As they left, they gave us hugs good night. We didn't ever know each other names; we were all Sophias.
Shannon and I decided to skip the party in the city and play dress up. After we tried on several dresses each, we decided to wear dresses that hadn't been out to play for 50 years. Shannon wore a cream dress with big roses in muted colors that were set off by her auburn hair. Mine had a white bodice with a flower and tomato print skirt. Both bodices were fitted (read barely enough room to breathe) with big poofy skirts that loved to swish and spin. Under the skirts were several layers of crinolin - very important. She's wearing sexy black strappy sandles. I'm wearing my little red dance shoes and a red scarf.
We head to Menlo Park.
Our first stop is Left Bank. Here we enjoyed a delectable Valrohna chocolate cake with espresso ice cream and drops of raspberry sauce - as well as the attentions of a cute French waiter. Then we decided that the British Banker's Club is perhaps ready for us. The BBC is perhaps one of the stodgiest looking bars around. It is actually set in an old bank, with big stained glass windows, oversized red leather chairs and a long dark wood bar. But Saturday night, the BBC had swirling lights and a live band playing - a grunge music 90s cover band - composed of cute young men in button down white shirts, loosened ties and spikey hair. (Just setting the scene.)
This is where is gets great - because it was already damn good.
Shannon and I are giddy with how wonderful it is to be girls. We feel every bit of the beautiful free-spirited playful women we are. AND we're wearing fabulous dresses.
So - we dance. for three hours. to Nirvana, Cake, Weezer. Bopping, jumping, stomping, spinning, twirling, swooshing. In our grandmother's dresses that thought they only know how to jitterbug and fox trot.
And we have a fan club. After the first set and we're walking off the dance floor, an older couple, probably in their late 50s/early 60s, come up to us. They've been watching and had already complimented Shannon on how elegant she looked, like Audrey Hepburn. The man then says, You're so much woman you scare all of the guys in this place. The women smiles and nods. We're grinning because this is the best compliment either of us have ever received - so much woman! Wow. Realizing our feminine spirit happen to be one of our favorite topics of conversation. This is a huge affirmation.
And the older couple is right. We hadn't been approached by any slimey men all night. It was great! Any one who did talk to us was respectful and normal. The dresses seem to announce (loudly) the we didn't really give a damn what anyone thought. that we were supremely happy already and having fun with or without any male attention.
The best part of the whole night though was the other women. So many of them came up to us and said how much they loved our dresses and that they wished they could dance like us. The more we danced, the mor other women danced and had fun. Our boldness seemed to give them the courage and space to step away from the wall. As they left, they gave us hugs good night. We didn't ever know each other names; we were all Sophias.
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