There were many new faces in the crowd. In most cases, it was a pleasure to finally meet men and women with whom we correspond face to face. Some guests failed to observe the proper dress code and were either turned away or sent home to change. This hadn't been so prevalent an issue in the past, but these semi-secret events have steadily been drawing more and more people. This prompted some reevaluation of policy among the misanthropes and temporary slackening of the rules.
The fact of the matter is t hat not everyone is in a position to purchase what the Company deems "suitable attire" and shouldn't be penalized for it. While most of our own wardrobe hails from the lowliest of thrift stores, we admit a pang of elitist guilt for harbouring the expectation that everyone has twenty dollars to blow on an old suit. As with legal fees and cover charges, perhaps dress code too should be considered on a sliding scale. We've now resolved to keep a limited number of loaner jackets and ties on hand for future Clubhouse events. That being said: If you show up to a Clubhouse event in fancypants designer jeas or glittery dance club wear, you will be turned away.
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rendition of St.Louis Cemetery Blues (photo by Arthur Corey)
An unexpected majority of our guest stuck around for the sleepover portion of the night. Those who did were treated to a second, gentler set by the Orchestra, and an all-night marathon of the Company's films for those who chose to beat the night.
The morning after was a little less cheerful for some. We remained true to the motel-themed spirit of the show in enforcing a strict eleven-o-clock checkout time.
A word of advice to those considering and all-night art opening: The serving of alcohol at art openings is an age-old trick to loosen the purse strings of inebriated patrons -- but did you know that the serving of coffee and juice to a crowd of hungover and under-slept patrons is doubly effective? And not nearly as costly.
We learned this completely by accident, but you can rest assured we'll be using the old one-two punch of booze at night and coffee in the morning the next time we decide to throw a slumber-party show.