The tickets were nearly impossible to come by and with promises of celebrity appearances and a chance to get up close to the man of the hour, Barack Obama, they were scarce for good reason.
The Jan. 20 Youth Inaugural Ball in Washington, DC was the first of its kind and thrown by the Presidential Inauguration Committee, which organized all ten official balls. No other president had commissioned an event specifically for his youth supporters. This one turned out to be an event not just for long-time loyalists, but for the daughters and sons of politicians. The fashion showed this range of backgrounds with people wearing everything from tall black boots and trashy polyblend dresses to full length designer gowns. Unfortunately, I lost my camera so we have to rely on photos by professional journalists who you know are more forgiving than I would have been.
For many of the invitees it was a first chance at a black-tie formal event and some had obviously put considerable time and money into their ensembles. I attended with less than two weeks to get ready after a friend found tickets for me. The event lived up to all promises of celebrity glamour with a short visit by perhaps the biggest celebrity in the world right now, Obama himself. Other non-performing celebs included Usher, Rosario Dawson, Cher, Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore plus, a personal highlight for me, Aretha Franklin, whom I got within two feet of.
I decided to go with a floor-length vintage gown in a hue similar to the Isabel Toledo ensemble Michelle Obama wore during the swearing in that morning. This turned out to be a good decision because I saw two other people wearing the BCBG dress I almost wore.
In my own opinion (and that’s what counts here, right?) my ball ensemble hit the mark perfectly. It was original, but not ostentatious. It was appropriately formal and ladylike, too, striking a Katheryn Hepburn-meets Jackie O tone. (I’m such a bragger.) I wish I had photos so you could see how I made the green work with a pink shoe and bag.
I am a member of the first African American sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha, which was founded at Washington, DC’s Howard University in 1908. Our colors are salmon pink and apple green and my pink and green palette was my way of paying homage to my African American roots without shoving it in anyone’s face. For jewelry I wore my white grandmother’s pearls and my black grandmother’s gold and diamond ring with vintage over the elbow white gloves with pearl buttons. If I watched TV I would never wash those gloves because the host of the MTV broadcast, Sway, took my hand and said I looked “great tonight” while I was standing near the broadcast stage.
The event technically lived up to what it said it would be. But like a broken Monolo Blahnik held together with Superglue, there was an unsightly side to all the TV-friendly excitement.
Thousands of people with tickets couldn’t get into the ballroom of the Hilton-Washington to see the main attractions such as performances by Kanye West, Kid Rock and Fall Out Boy. Some didn’t even get into the building until after Obama had left.
Granted tickets were only $75, a reduced price compared to most inaugural events, but that price came with the dreams of many young people who made sacrifices to attend. I heard some people spent as much as $1,000 on craigslist to attend. Yipes, I hope they got in.
To some who didn’t see anything it was probably enough to just be able to say “I was there” for the status that would invoke from people envious they didn’t get to be in the capital for this historic inaugural. But being shut out was devastating to others who got their tickets through connections they made working to get Obama elected. Waiting in long outdoor lines in the frigid DC air is probably not on that many people’s list of glamorous things to do, but that was the fate many endured that night.
I barely missed Obama’s speech standing behind a closed door with menacing looking secret service people ensuring even a tiny girl in a vintage dress like myself could not slip in as Obama spoke. I get it. Security. But please, I could barely get down the stairs without tearing my hem on a stiletto, I wasn’t about to be a security threat. So close, yet so far away. I made small talk with a friendly drunk girl in an unremarkable red dress.
Once I got into the ballroom I made the most of the situation by catching whatever celebrity action I could. I saw Rosario Dawson straighten Kanye West’s tie and thought that was cute. However, after seeing ‘Ye up close, I wish Dawson had packed some clippers to rid him of that mullet of a hairstyle he was rocking.
Despite my disappointment at losing my camera and missing Obama, I was glad I went. And once that professional photography company that was there gets done charging me $50 for a snapshot, I will be sure to post a photo.
In summary: If you have a chance to go to an event like this you definitely should. But as for any event with 8,000 guests, it’s best to wear the one accessory that’s truly rare when things aren’t going as planned: A smile. I saw more looks ruined by pouting faces than by poor fashion sense.
Ciao, Posh Hippie