Before heading off, I realized that I needed to remedy a deficiency in my gown. The late eighteenth-century polonaise puts a lot of emphasis on the, ahem, derriere, and even with the draped fabric, mine was looking a bit puny. So I did what any lady would do--I made myself a false rump. Yes, I just typed the words "false rump." What an eighteenth-century lady wouldn't have done, that I chose to do, was to create the thing out of old towels. But, rolled and stitched, they have the right combination of firmness and maleability. The effect is quite charming, if you're into that sort of thing:
A friend posted this photo on Facebook, and the first thing I did when I saw it was make my husband come look at how great my butt looked. Yeah, he thought it was weird, too.
We also danced, sticking with English country dances. A friend asked before I went to the party if we were going to dance the minuet--to my understanding, this is much more difficult, and given the hilarity of attempting these country dances, I don't think I'd have much success at the minuet! Most were done in lines or circles of six--there were more willing ladies than gentlemen, so many thanks to the good sports who provided partners to all of us ladies who wanted a turn on the floor. My favorite started in a circle instead of a line (as the one at right does) and involved turning your partner into the center of the circle and back out. It also involved skipping. Very fun.
And, of course, we all had so much fun that we decided we must have a spring masquerade ball. It will be a late Carnivale. Or something. As though we needed an excuse! But, of course, we can't wear the same gowns again, can we? So we all conspired to make appropriately spring-ish gowns. Perhaps the perfect reason to attempt the modified saqcue-back that I'm currently coveting.