helenic

On Saturday, the_lady_lily, devalmont and I went to the Girton Spring Ball. This was mainly because the theme was "Dawn Treader", and at the end of last term I saw a poster for it in the Classics Faculty and immediately ran to Liz squeeing "A NARNIA BALL!!! WE SO HAVE TO GO!" but I've since been converted to Spring Balls in general. Unlike their May counterparts, the year is still cold, and so rather than being an open air funfair-cum-music-festival they take place for the most part indoors. About twenty different rooms of various sizes and functions were decorated in different ways and with different themes: there was Aslan's Den, which had cushioned nooks in the walls hidden by curtains (for sex or smoking, presumably, although we didn't enter into one ourselves) and laid-back live folk music being played; Nightmare Island, a rave room with flavoured oxygen available instead of alcohol; the Magician's Study where magic tricks and comedy were being performed; a series of rooms decorated as "islands", each with a different theme (a film room, a speed dating room, a games room) and different kinds of drink available accordingly; Dodgems (outside); the Faun's Glen where beautiful topless gold-painted fauns gave massages; a lazer quest (cunningly disguised as "cave quest") and huge amounts of food and drink from salads and fruit to burgers and donuts. There was far more live music than we could ever hope to listen to, but we managed a substantial amount and got a few hours of serious dancing in, which was definitely necessary.

It had long been a Cambridge ambition to go to a ball in drag, and I decided that Girton Spring Ball (being slightly less formal than some of the May Balls) was the place to do it. After abandoning the Prince Rilian plan when I found out it wasn't a costume ball, I decided to hire a suit. This was more complicated than I'd imagined. Firstly, I didn't get served. I don't know whether it was gender discrimination or not - I imagine they simply didn't realise I wanted to be served and assumed I was just waiting for someone - but it took them well over half an hour to get to me. My request to hire a tailcoat was received with some incredulity, and I was beginning to get annoyed, especially when I found out they didn't have a single frock coat available in my size. The smallest jacket they had was a DJ. But oh, when I tried that on - it felt incredible. So comfortable, for a start, and I had pockets, and my breasts weren't really obvious at all, and the trousers fit so much better than stupid tight girly hipster trousers do - in fact they were much more flattering in general. I'd borrowed Catriona's top hat so I decided to wear it anyway - I mean you shouldn't with a DJ, officially, but seeing as I'd already abandoned convention I thought I may as well. I haven't taken the suit back to the hire place yet. I love it so much. I want one of my own.

I wasn't convincing at all, of course - women tended to grin at me (I think they assumed I was a lesbian) but men just felt uncomfortable. A few of them liked the hat, though, and asked to try it on. But the best part about cross-dressing was the dancing. Dancing in a suit is an entirely different skill to dancing in a dress. Different parts of your body are emphasised, your posture is different, and looking good in girl's clothes involves a different type of movement to looking good dressed as a man. You carry yourself differently. It's the same with dancing. I'd never really thought about it before, but as soon I tried it I realised I was going to have to get to grips with an entirely different skill. Dancing like a woman is all about your hands and your hips, where your weight rests; dancing like a man is about your shoulders and your feet. Rather than keeping the beat with your hips, you keep it with your shoulders; you look down rather than up; and instead of using your arms to illustrate the music, you use your feet. It was a fascinating experience, and even if I looked a complete fool I think I got quite good at it - at least, better than most of the other men there, although I probably still looked stupid in comparison to the women. But I've discovered I like man-dancing, and as it would look daft in women's clothes (not because of gender stereotyping, simply because of what different clothes do to your body), I'm obviously going to have to cross-dress more in order to get to do it.

Anyway, photos are here. I need to go and work. What with three hours sleep on Friday night, four on Saturday night, and dress rehearsals and auditions to be a pirate at Robinson May Ball and play performances and a jungle-themed formal hall which I helped organise to raise money for a village in Indonesia, work has been neglected somewhat over the past few days. I have two essays to do in three days, as well as language work and more performances. It's the end of term after that, but I can't afford to think about that quite yet.