ALL GIRLS XMAS PARTY

This past Sunday, December 11, I had my 27^th All Girls Xmas Party.  It started in the mid 1980’s when I invited friends and coworkers to my house on a December afternoon for appetizers and champagne.  It’s an interesting, different dynamic with girls only parties.  I don’t know if it makes us more carefree, a little less worried about things we say and do, but it seems to be a freer, more open atmosphere.  It must be enjoyable because people keep showing up!  The cast of characters has changed over the years.  Some have moved away and new friends were added when I changed companies.  After leaving the office world with the birth of my daughter, the parties became my connecting link with people I otherwise would never see again.  Every year is different and I’m never sure who will be there or not due to unforeseen circumstances.  People get the flu or have trips or obligations that interfere with the chosen date. 

There was one very memorable year which my core–group friends will remember, when a special guest made an unforgettable appearance.  My dad called to tell me he and Mom were coming down for Christmas.  Their arrival date coincided with the day I had planned my party.  Everyone knew and loved my dad.  He was a talented musician and artist and had a wicked sense of humor.  He was the kind of person everyone respected and wanted to be around because he was so much fun.  I told Dad jokingly that he was welcome to come but he would have to dress like a woman since it was an all girls party.  Given his sense of humor, I should have known he would do just that.  He went to Sears and bought the biggest blue party dress he could find and even donned hose and heels.  Mom did his makeup and provided him with a wig and a pearl necklace and earrings.  Dad was not a small person; not a man who could easily transform into a woman.  He was tall and big boned with large hands and feet.  With perfect comedic timing, he waited until the party was in full swing, then made his entrance by descending the staircase, slowly swishing his hips and holding his hand out for balance in a feminine way.  I heard one of my friends whisper behind me, “Who is that ugly old woman?”  and I tried to keep from laughing.  With an affected, high voice, he announced, “Hello, I’m Ima Laflame!”  My friends, always polite, tried to engage ”her” in conversation.  You could see the wheels turning as they tried to puzzle out exactly who “she” was.  Dad was able to keep up the charade for a full hour before someone finally figured him out.  Then there was much laughter and inappropriate grabbing at his fake boobs.  Dad ate it up, laughing with everyone at his own joke and posing for pictures with them.  I don’t think any of us ever laughed so hard as we did that year.  The event has become legendary; something those who witnessed it speak of fondly. 

There have been some years when only a handful of friends showed up, allowing me to give each person more attention,  and years when my home is vibrant and alive with the voices and laughter of my brilliant and wonderful friends.   I am always thrilled, no matter how many show up, to see my friends, and honored that they want to keep coming and keep the tradition alive year after year.  New champagne sister friends have been added through the years and seem to enjoy it too.  If I didn’t have this party every year, most of these dear friends would disappear from my life forever.  It is just too easy to lose touch with people when you no longer see them on a daily basis.  Life and hectic schedules get in the way and ruin the best intentions.  This party is a way of connecting with old and new friends, keeping old memories alive and creating new ones as well.  Thank you, dear friends.  It’s a pleasure and an honor to have you in my home at Christmastime.