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Party Like It’s 1922: Great Gatsby’s Guide to Partying with 100 of Your Most Sophisticated Friends

On their way to a party. Credit: Eva Rinaldi // Flickr.

On their way to a party. Credit: Eva Rinaldi // Flickr.

By now, unless you are living under a rock without Wifi, you have an opinion of Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby. Perhaps you found Luhrmann’s 3-D film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel charming in its manic swagger, with its hip-hop soundtrack, lush mise en scène, swooping camera angles, and seemingly never-ending orgies. After all, didn’t it make you think that life was just some cosmic hangover waiting to happen? No? Just me then. Or maybe the English major within you decried it as a trashy, cheap imitation of the novel, which shall remain forever unfilmable in your book. (See what I did there? English major stuff.)

Either way, I think we can all agree that both the novel and the film know how to throw a good party. The kind of party that has its own weather. The kind of party that defies you-had-to-be-there logic, since even the people there don’t know how to describe it. And yet, despite being on the verge of plunging into some kaleidoscope haze, the party retains an air of sophistication. Think Kanye West meets, well, Kanye West. But how does one achieve such party greatness? Whether you are a guest or a host, follow these simple steps below for roaring good time.

  1. How much beading do you have?
  2. That was a rhetorical question.
  3. YOU SHOULD HAVE ALL THE BEADING. You should look like the animated sassy chandelier that did not make the cut for Beauty and the Beast because studio execs thought she was too sassy, because of all the beading.
  4. Pick a classy fun nickname that says you are classy fun gal and use it indiscriminately on everyone and everything. This versatile example is directed toward a chair but could do just as well for a friend or a friend in the making: “There you are, Chicken Legs. I’ve been dying to take a sit-down on you.”
  5. Tip: make sure you can wrap your mouth around this nickname after 3+ gin and tonics.
  6. For example, while Trollop Trousers may seem like the perfect nickname, old gin and tonic mouth will render it virtually unintelligible.
  7. Stick with easy-to-say staples like, Chicken Legs, Queen Bee, Slim Jim, Musty Fella, and Bieber Bangs.
  8. What you lack in sophistication make up for by crying out tortuously, “I’m sophisticated!” Nothing says sophistication, like well, saying it loudly.
  9. Go ahead and mingle, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a dumb conversation distract you from thinking about how you’re going to be reunited with that sweet, enchanting pile of silk shirts later.
  10. Start a juicy rumor about the host, like how he owns an albino monkey that rides a unicycle.
  11. And if you want to get really juicy, tell people that said monkey was a famous leader of all- monkey circus union called Monkey Business.
  12. Stay away from murder-based gossip, that’s so passé.
  13. Make an outrageous proclamation every hour like “these cocktails look like they were made by tiny ants” or “cronuts will be the demise of our great nation.”
  14. Disappear from time to time. People will think you are mysterious and complicated, even if you are just on a quest to find more cheese.
  15. Ain’t no party like a West Egg party cuz a West Egg party don’t stop.
  16. Seriously, one minute you’re attempting a jazzy rendition of Miley Cyrus’ “Party In The U.S.A.” and the next you’re divvying up PBRs for the coming apocalypse.
  17. Sulk in the hollow feeling that follows an interminable day of being served mint juleps and tiny sandwiches.
  18. But don’t let this sulkiness keep you finding out once and for all if the host is a Twihard. Sure, you’ve seen him read “real” books plenty of times. But who’s to say Stephenie Meyer’s angst-ridden prose is not lurking behind the cover of some Dostoyevsky novel? You that’s who.
  19. Remember those silk shirts? God as your witness, you will never love like that again!
  20. Come to the tortuous realization that you can’t repeat the past with those silk shirts.
  21. Drink.

– LJM

NEXT: Like this piece? Read Lilli’s At the Cinema: An Introduction and Hannah’s Highly Recommended: La regle de ju.

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This entry was posted on July 10, 2013 by and tagged , , , , , , , , , , .

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