Written July 25th, 2011
I forgot that I didn’t write a ramble last Monday until someone reminded me this past weekend.
And I honestly couldn’t remember why it had slipped my mind, but then it hit me that I might have been slightly fatigued from getting in late from my boy Big Don’s birthday party last Sunday.
The party was good, it had a strong turnout and all that, but I wasn’t allowed inside for maybe 45 minutes after I arrived. And why was a superstar like myself stuck outside of a New York party for so long you ask?
Well this event happened to be an All-White Party.
That’s right folks…all-white. Not 100% Caucasian attendants, but your gear had to be all one color.
Now I was aware of this fact when I got the flyer for the shindig but I’ve been to white parties before.
White parties are supposed to have a Heavenly theme I’m guessing and give off some sort of uniform look but not everyone is into wearing a uniform to the club.
So usually guys underdress and will rock a shirt with white in it, or a white tee, or some regular white sneakers or they throw on burgundy to stand out and show the white party throwers that they are against the grain.
Of course you always have your people that have outfits in their closet ready for stuff like this.
Linen suits, white shirt and matching pants, I even saw some Adidas pants and cargo shorts. But I, on the other hand do not own any white bottoms. I used to have some white shorts but I don’t know where they are and I’m sure they have a stain on them anyway.
So I came through with a borrowed white shirt, a pair of jeans, and some white kicks assuming that I was going to fall in between the people that chose to wear red or black and the other end of the spectrum would be the folks that went hard with suits and white shoes, white belts, white underwear and a white person on their arm.
Unfortunately the rules were strict and my blue jeans were spotted almost a block away and they told me I wasn’t going to be allowed inside. How often do you know the head of security of a club and the owner but you can’t get in?
It wasn’t embarrassing but it was interesting. Most of the ladies had it figured out: white dresses, white tight tops and shorts.
But dudes that showed up sans white pantaloons were very bothered. They argued, beefed, complained but the owner didn’t budge. He said he was even allowing shorts in the club as long as they were white.
And here I was in disbelief and awe that I couldn’t get in with blue jeans. One of my peoples suggested we try and find some store in the city and buy some white Levi’s…at 1:30 a.m. The thought almost sounded logical for 16 seconds then I drifted off to the idea of me spending money on a pair of jeans I most likely wouldn’t rock again until another white party.
I had white Guess jeans in high school, I wonder where they are. They probably walked out of my house in the 90’s from neglect.
So then I told the bouncer that I was waiting on my friend to bring some bleach and I would be all good, people found that funny, but I really think if I had some bleach, there were some dudes out there that would have considered whitening their garments to gain entry.
I was used to being discriminated against because of the color of my skin. Was I really being shut out because of the color of my jeans?
Hadn’t we come too far as a race to be creating this clothing segregation?
I walked up again and said that I had some Klan members in the hood that were bringing me a hood and robe so I can get cleared.
More laughter from security but one of them wasn’t laughing. In fact he was seriously offended by anyone that showed up without all white on. He told one dude that it wasn’t his call to deny partygoers but why would you even play yourself and wear blue to an all white party? As much as that should have bothered me, it didn’t.
Nor did seeing my peoples from around my way dressed accordingly down to their white shoes. Was I a fool? Did I miss something all these years I passed by the white jean section? I saw someone get inside with white basketball shorts so maybe I’m just thinking too hard.
White is a color, and colors are just reflections of light anyway…or something like that. I know that if it was an all-gray party or all-turquoise party, I had some outfits ready to go.
And if it was in the Hamptons, and Diddy invited me, then I definitely would have went shopping for it and I would have bought some white bottoms.
The truth is I do need to get with the program. What if this happens again? What if there’s an all-white function that would change my life? What if you have to wear all white in Heaven and I don’t have the proper attire?
I eventually got inside and so did everyone that was complaining. I heard a bunch of southern music, I saw people swag surfing, popping bottles, sweating up their blanco clothing, and that’s when someone spilled a drink on me that missed my shirt but landed on my jeans. The jeans that were supposed to be white.
Do you shy away from color parties? Do you wear all-black when you’re told to? And what’s the point of it? Do they want the pictures of the party to look cool or does the person throwing the shindig just want to be The Wiz in control of the color? How would you feel throwing an all-brown event and no one obeys, but you need to fill your party? I guess you would feel silly that no one heeded your request.
But if you said free all night if you wear brown or all brown liquor free, then people would come correct. At least all-white events don’t have the same meaning that they had in say 1948. If that is the silver lining, then I shall accept it.