Random Glory: When novelty shaped is not so novel

Let me start this post by declaring that I have never been to a hens party before. Or a baby shower. Or a kitchen tea. So far I've successfully managed to avoid them. I nearly, NEARLY made it to my sister Michelle's baby shower a while ago, and I really wanted to go to that one but had conference on and couldn't actually make it even though I wanted to. But on the whole - I've been happy not going.

I don't like organised games at parties. I don't like people being humiliated at parties - why does this always seem to have to happen at hens nights?? When I used to go out a lot, so often we would see girls who were out on their hens nights and they would be wearing stupid things like veils with tampons and condoms hanging off them, underwear over the top of their clothes, stupid make up all over their faces, fluffy handcuffs or vibrators round their necks... I totally fail to understand how this could make a good night, or what significance this has at all to someone's impending wedding.

Does a party need to be tasteless and crude to be fun? Am I perhaps just a prude? Should I consider it desirable to go out with condoms stapled to a fake veil and a fluro lacy g-string on over my trousers??

Well anyway, I went to my friend Manda's hens party up in Newcastle on Fri night. Manda is a total champ and I absolutely love her to bits. She's a lovely Christian girl who I was with when I was saved. We started out the night with a pole dancing lesson - which I had expected to be a bit dodgy, but actually I really enjoyed! It was a lot of fun. When we walked in there was a big shelf full of slut shoes, which we all laughed at - and then laughed even harder when we found out that we were supposed to put them on!

They even had the catalog there in case you wanted to buy your own classy shoes!

I found some pink ones - they made me about a head taller, and when I walked I wobbled around like a weather vane. I used to really like those shoes - you know the ones with clear plastic straps, and clear pastic platforms - until one day someone told me that they were slut shoes, and that's what all the girls in Ralph and Playboy etc wore in their photo shoots! Not so classy at all :-)

Can hardly walk.... however can pose classily with shoes....

Some of the poles were fixed, and some of them spun. The fixed ones were hard to spin on, but the spinning ones - I kept getting too much momentum up and ended up spinning round and round uncontrollably until I managed to launch myself off and collapse in a heap of hotpants and pink plastic shoes! My legs are so bruised today!

This move responsible for several large bruises

Building up an astonishing amount of momentum!

The instructor was this tiny tiny little girl, who gave us a demonstration at the end of what you can do after you've been training for years. She was all over that pole like a monkey! Pretty acrobatic - but still mostly g-rated.

There was one point where she was suspended entirely by her armpit. This was pretty impressive - but we couldn't help but wonder how many times she'd fallen off trying to perfect that move! She said she has a pole at home, and makes up the moves herself. We all tried to pretend not to be impressed by this (but secretly we were).

Newcastle's version of the Pussycat Dolls ;-)

Everyone had a really good time - Manda especially!

The second party of the party - which I expected would be the actual fun part, was a party at a friends place (absolutely stunningly beautiful apartment!) with all the girls. Omg, I can hardly describe how I felt. There were, hmmm how should I word this? 'Novelty shaped' items everywhere. (Don't make me say the p-word out here in public on my blog!) Novelty shaped chocolates, pin the 'novelty shape' on the Brad Pitt, novelty shaped drink holders, even novelty shaped chocolate cakes! I thought I'd play it safe and have some of the pretty pink non-alcoholic punch - but no, there were novelty shaped ice cubes floating around in there too.

Am I a prude? Am I a snob? I was totally out of my comfort zone, but nobody else even batted an eyelid. I was so uncomfortable that I stayed for 30 mins exactly and then left, fled down to the Central Coast to my mum's place, which was decidedly and blessedly novelty shape free.

Ah well, at least it makes for an interesting blog. Word of warning though: to all of my girlfriends, prospective bridesmaids, sisters and acquaintances, if I see even ONE HINT of anything suggestively shaped at my hens night (albeit in the far distant future) I will immediately open up a can of whoop-ass and revoke all wedding cake privileges.

You have now been warned.