Once again, it's me and the boyz tonight. A few of the ladies showed up a bit later in the evening but weren't here in this very room with me to encounter the spectacle of a group of guys in fancy dress. I've made mention of the "fancy dress" party in a previous blog entry and won't go into too much detail besides to describe briefly how it transforms a person.
I watched (and captured on camera) this rare moment, when boy meets bathing suit bottom; man meets makeup. They took to the fancy dress as naturals - as if accustomed to strapping on stillettos and styling their locks. They even helped one another get all dolled up, making sure pins were in place and zippers were done up tight. And at one point, each of these grown men stood in front of the mirror and gave their gurny a sideways glance before applying the last tough of lipstick. Amazing.
It was like being a spider in the room of a boys-only slumber party. Is this really what happens when there's way too much testosterone in the room. After they were dressed and ready to resume their manly method of chugging beer - albeit while seated comfortably cross-legged with their pinky's pointed - I asked a few of them what it was about the 'fancy dress' that made it such a habitual happening.
I was told: "Dressing like a woman is liberating."
If you say so buddy. I'll stick to slacks (yeah, slacks - pants mean underwear here).
