The theme of Dan Levy’s 26th birthday party this past Friday was “FIERCE,” which meant that two thirty year old women had no idea how to dress. It was necessary to have a meeting on the phone:
“So – am I supposed to go like a vampire?”
“Yeah…I think you can. I’m sort of dressed like an American cheerleader.”
“Ugh, I just look like a Le Chateau cougar on crack.”
“I think it means FIERCE like Tyra Banks. You know, like when she says “OOOh girl – that’s FIERCE!”
”Christ – let’s look it up.”
It was necessary to do what needs to be done in order to resolve clarification: we Googled the word. This is what the online dictionary told us:
1 a : violently hostile or aggressive in temperament b : given to fighting or killing
2 a : marked by unrestrained zeal or vehemence b : extremely vexatious, disappointing, or intense
3 : furiously active or determined
4 : wild or menacing in appearance
We nixed the vampire thing, swapped bouncy cheerleader for vexatious menacing slut bag – and were off!
The scene was the usual mélange of folk who get nervous to miss a happening laced with MTV peeps who prefer pop to Pitchfork.
When Dan Levy walked in dressed like a gangster-Siberian-wolf-nerd the party kicked up a few notches. Cameras lit up the room with paparazzi flashes and spotlights. National Post’s This! That! social mogul Shinan Govani perched high on a booth alongside style-wise Amy Verner from the Globe and Mail. Sarah Nicole Prickett from Fashion Magazine beamed blonde from the outside red carpet. Girls circled Dan and Jessi like hyenas to a whimpering gazelle. It would have been perfect if Thriller had been on at that moment, just to attempt a fierce synched up stalker dance – African safari styles. We slurped back another drink and concurred ‘yeah, its sort of like our birthday last year.’
Jessi wore Greta Constantine. We know because we worked up the courage to ask. When she answered, we smiled – got all nervous and retreated. A second opportunity arose to expose our adulation when she lost an earring on the ground. We got down on hands and knees and sifted through mini-hamburger mess, shoe shit and feathers – but no such luck. However, as we arose from the ground, we came face to face with one gorgeous treasure – a giant fan.
It was as if we had never felt the sensual pleasure of cool strong wind in our hair. One hypnotic dancer described it as “total Narnia.” We posed, stomped, laughed and felt a rush of life that frightened others.
Taking a break from ecstasy, we head outside to fling ourselves over the hood of a hot car.
“OMGawd – this is such a hot car! Vrooooooom!”
This excitement lasted until gladiator-strapped, skinny jean spectator cut in:
”Um- it’s a Ford.”
Back inside to the fan. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! We had finally realized what FIERCE meant, and it felt soo good.
The fiercely clad bump n’ grinders were so carried away they didn’t even know what they were listening to:
”I LOVE FINE YOUNG CANNIBALS!” a young girl boasted as Michael Jackson’s Black or White blared.
A bucket of Veuve Cliquot pushed through the crowd aflame with sparklers, which in turn sparked a very rowdy happy birthday song.
Departing home, we realized our fierce had reached such a high that we needed to come down. We stretched out on the sidewalk and sang “HEART OF GOLD” with a busker. Nothing says ‘bring it on home’ like Neil Young.
Fierce! Fan! Fords!
Throw a party at Atelier, Dan Levy and the Pussycat Dolls do.