40th Follies!

Last weekend I was fortunate to have been invited to a 40th birthday, which was to take place near Putney in south London. The slight difference with this party was that it was a 'wig party', which not too surprisingly, a number of us less-than-hirsute individuals approached with a little too much gusto, but for the purpose of this medium, we'll put it down to the fact that we were just getting into the spirit of the celebrations.

Because it was a wig party, we thought that it would be fitting if we found some type of 'fancy dress' to go with the wigs, and although DJD was keen as mustard for us to wear either leather gimp suits or tight fitting latex, including full hood, I was not too sold on the idea. For the record, my reticence was mainly due to the allergic reaction I have from tight-fitting leather and/or latex, much to DJD's chagrin.

Without the leather/latex thang a-happening, we needed something else to wear, so we headed up to Camden to give the well-known market a bit of a spin!

We'd heard from BTLC that there was some excellent 70's clobber to be found in Olde Camden Town, but we weren't able to find anything of particular interest - aside from some knee-high 3 inch heeled leather boots - so we became desperate in our search for something 'retro' that might go with the hideous wigs that we'd picked up from the local wig shop, which incidentally DJD had a Gold Membership card, affording us 15% discount.

Our desperation led us to a 'Hawaiian' theme, and the only two 'decent' (always a relative term when discussing the abomination of clothing that is the Hawaiian shirt) shirts cost a paltry £70 and £150 quid each. Read that cost again! And no, there were no Swedish massages, happy endings or outrageous Lez acts included in those prices. That was for the shirt! Sure, they had a 'Made in Honolulu' tag on them, but it still doesn't make it right!

This had a devastating impact on our positivity at this stage, and we needed some success in our search which was by the minute becoming like our own personal quest for the holy grail.

And then we saw it.....

Our salvation.....

Boy scout uniforms!

For better or for worse, I was never a member of the scouts, and although I knew kids that were 'scouts', who spoke of learning to tie strange knots, going to 'jamborees', and indulging in other activities that we ostracized them for, the way of the scout was never something that held much interest for me.

I'm sure Michael Jackson would have enjoyed scouts, but that there is a whole other entry, for want of some really bad pun.

Anyway, we both warmed to the idea of donning scout uniforms and wigs and heading to a 40th, as is the average want on a typical London saturday afternoon! Little did I know when we decided upon this tact, but DJD was actually a scout as a kid. Funny thing was, he wasn't familiar with the DYB DYB DYB DOB DOB DOB credo, nor did he know who Robert Baden-Powell was. Actually, that wasn't funny, it was disturbing! How do I know these things, and why doesn't a former scout? Am I a closet or wannabe scout? Is the choice of the scouting uniform a manifestation of psychological issues which have been bubbling under the surface since I became too old to be a scout, and realised I'd missed the boat?

Am I being melodramatic and ridiculous? Absolutely!!!

But scouts we were, and onward bound we were to meet our other three comrades for an assault on the 40th.

Edgeware Road tube station was our destination, where Scams, Blinkers and BigStu were pretty much wigged-up and also ready for some 40th action! Pity we had to wait 15 minutes for the freakin' Wimbledon tube, and we then got incorrect directions in Putney and ended up at Upper Richmond Road, as opposed to Lower Richmond Road, but karma has it's place, and our random direction-giver will undoubtedy have a shocking bout of colon cancer, and the gods will mock him from above for his cruelty!

Arrival at the 40th was like entering the wigged twilight zone. There were wigs of all shapes and sizes, colours and types! It was a good start! It was a mixed crowd, but is there a better type? Aside from a crowd of liberally minded naked glamours intent on fulfilling your every fantasy, I think not!

The night itself was relaxed and funny, with a good mix of folks, some piss funny transvestite performer, some retro 80's classics and far too many digital cameras for DJD's liking.

Some random observations about a 'typical' 40th wig party

• Sambo looks like a 'hooker' with a blond wig, according to DJD.
• Drunken Kiwis are easily convinced that 28 and 30 year old Australians living in London can be members of 'The Boyscouts of America'.
• Beer prices can randomly fluctuate by 5 pence at any given time.
• If you take on a Six Footer in the paint, a digical camera is sure to catch you.
• Our host had been seemingly shopping for high heeled shoes in Camden!
• 'Private Cabs' can make serious calculation errors, mistaking your longer destination for shorter ones.

Good times!