I Wanna DANCE!

I wanna go dancing. Somebody take me dancing. I NEED TO DANCE.

"But Miss Banshee," you ask, confused, "aren't you the same person who needs protective equipment just to sit on your couch? Are you not the person who can fall down whilst standing still? How in the name of Zeus's underbritches do YOU ever DANCE? The whole thing is preposterous. Are you drinking again?"

OH, my precious little squirrels. Let me explain. You see, yes, all of those things are true, quite true, regarding my lack of coordination. And no, I'm not hitting the sauce again. I want to go dancing. Dancing like the old days. Allow me to reminisce. 

Back in college, my girls and I would go to ManRay, a club in Cambridge that had goth nights. We, believing that we were the hottest things around, and also childrene ofe the nighte, would spackle on our makeup every Wednesday and go dancing. AND IT WAS AWESOME.

Manray1
YES! Oh MAN (Ray) those were the days.

Manray2
LOVE!

Manray3
Awwwwwwwwwwww!!!!! We were so cute. But like all good things, ManRay went the way of the dodo, and is now either a parking lot or condos or both, but the point is that my beloved club is gone, gone, gone.

But I moved from Boston a long time ago, so the point of yearning after ManRay is kind of moot, but OH the memories. They had an elevated platform with a chain link spiderweb I used to hump, and a big fence I used  to climb (and hump) as we gyrated to the music. Of course, this was when I was drinking, and DRINK WE DID, raspberry margheritas out of the sno-cone machine, and there was SOMETHING strong in those mofos, because one would get me juuuuust flexible enough to writhe like a proper goth chick and not fall over.

"But Miss B!!! WE STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND. HOW did you not fall down? How were limbs not shattered? You can't even stand in bare feet without breaking something!?!?"

Well, the answer is simple.

Demoniaboots
See these suckers? I can run a marathon in these bitches. Platform boots are the easiest, most comfy way of footwear for my freak ass, and I am MAGICALLY TRANSFORMED when I put them on into a dancing, staying-upright, sexy MACHINE. It's all about the shoes, baby.

Now. SOMEONE in bloggyland wants to take me dancing like the Childe ofe the Nighte that I am. I am WICKED FUN in goth clubs. I'm TOTALLY into it. And I'm a perky goth, so don't worry, I take none of this seriously. That would ruin the fun.

SOMEONE TAKE ME DANCING.

I'll leave you with a few Ancient Gawthique Secrets:

  • Spray your face with Ultra Freeze Aqua Net hairspray to set your makeup.
  • Boots first, THEN corset.
  • Buy Capezio or another ballet/jazz/tap brand of fishnets. They have a reinforced toe and your toes won't be sliced to bits by the end of the night.

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.

(Someone take me dancing. I'll do your hair and makeup for you, even. YES YOU, BOYS. YOU WILL WEAR THE GUY-LINER AND YOU WILL LOVE IT.

ahem.

Bachelor recap up soon.

MWAH!


Comments

I Wanna DANCE! — 11 Comments

  1. OMG! ManRAY!!! I used to go there every now and then, but I had friends who were there ALL the time. One of whom used to dance in a cage… Of course, that was probably decades before your time, but – MANRAY! Too funny.

  2. ManRay was good fun, I used to go there back in 94-95. Also the Rat. How I loved the Rat. How my heart breaks every time I pass where it used to be on the way to the airport…

  3. Ah..I remember those days. Wonder how ridiculous I’d look garbed up like I used to be with 4 kids and a minivan in tow. At least my 11 year old daughter is following in my footsteps.

  4. reinforced fishnets? Dude.. wish I’d had those back in the day. I’d just wear socks neath the nets under boots. (cant see socks in boots bwahaha!)
    Great advice and if I were closer I’d take your freaky self out dancin, regardless of the fact that I’m a boring “old” mom of two, I can still totally rock the goth. (Picture proff may well end up in my blog)

  5. Remember the night I made the mistake of drinking ONE AND A HALF frozen raspberry margaritas? Because I don’t really. That’s how strong those fuckers were.
    Also, how much would someone have to pay you to stop posting these photos on the interwebs? Just out of curiosity.

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