So yesterday morning, Audrey and I were on our way to class and we realized that San Francisco Ballet’s Gala was tonight. Gala had been sold out for at least a month, but we really wanted to go and Auds and I are can do people. So we got standing room tickets, put on our fanciest duds, and went to Gala dammit.
Gala, I swear to you, is exactly like prom for adults. Seriously, the amount of tulle and taffeta I saw was shameful. Add some plastic sugary and huge diamonds to any teenage prom movie and you get the picture. There were some more creative fashion choices (I managed to snap a pic of the woman whose outfit was inspired by owls), including one gown that had prints of her selfies all over it.
Getting into the after party was a challenge because we didn’t, in the technical sense, have tickets. But when there’s a will there’s a way, so with the combination of hiding in a lump of people and running past the ticket checker really fast, we somehow got in. Open bar and a reasonably good DJ made helped me forget how much my feet hurt (standing room tickets are actually the worst) and we danced the night away.
Gala for 30 dollars, folks. Not too shabby.
Now excuse me, I have to go ice my feet,