last night wasn't the most stylish evening of swing dancing ever. a lot of the best dancers, the regulars, weren't there, and those are the people who dress with dedication. however, it was Packed and raucous. the era's signifiers are still in place, from the men's toppers to floral print dresses. you can see the hair whipping around and the smiles on every face.
ilana in silk polka dots, with a flower in her hair. she's dancing with max, who ventured into her shop today. he's living in chicago, going to columbia (my alma mater) but he's originally from florida. therefore, we both had homes in common with him, most of all that he's fun and willing to be silly. new orleans is great in that you can start talking to someone at a cafe or on the corner, and they'll invite you to a party that night.
your humble author, reduced to a blur because chance is swinging me so fast. (between sets, chance had to go home and change shirts because he'd worked up a sweat. as one of the best dancers in new orleans, he's in very high demand, and is never allowed to sit one out.) i'm wearing a vintage circle skirt printed with pink and yellow seashells, and i'm doing my happy damndest to keep up.
it was the kind of night where the drummer is a sub and many of the songs had false endings, and the tempo of songs is switched up. some new numbers were added to the Little Big Horns repertoire, and a lot of them were up-tempo. early on, max bought me a french 75 and it went right to my head.
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