A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to go to blogger prom, an event for L.A. bloggers. It was held on the gorgeous rooftop deck of the Andaz Hotel in West Hollywood, which had what Ken promptly dubbed "the best view in L.A." Since Ken is a sucker for views and has dragged me all over creation looking for the best one, I'll have to go with him on this one. The dress was "cheesy prom", and being unable to squeeze into my high school prom dress (which was gorgeous, anyway, and I would TOTALLY wear it to a formal event if it weren't for the fact that after bearing children everything is redistributed on my body and the darn thing no longer fits) and totally pressed for time, I wore a caftan and called it a day. So the effect was more Mrs. Roper than Molly Ringwald, sue me.
It was nice to have a date (I dragged along my husband to the event), and many of the features were terrific -- highlights for us were the venue, the cheese plates provided by The Cheese Impresario, and the pistachio cupcakes provided by Polkatots (where I would totally order the Nuni's birthday cake if it were not for the fact that I am a food blogger and it would be high treason to outsource such a thing). I really appreciate the generosity of the sponsors and the herculean efforts of the blogger prom committee.
And yet ...
I didn't really meet many of my fellow bloggers. I know that a huge part of this was me not really having my "game face" on. It was a weeknight, I had hit traffic coming home from work, making my commute a miserable 1.5 hours, and I really wanted to just hide myself in a corner and drink, which I did quite well, if I do say so myself. But I just didn't find the atmosphere particularly conducive to going out there and meeting people. Part of this is because we could bring dates, so it was easy to retreat to the safety of your partner in crime, part of this was the outlandish attire (did I ever share the story of how Ken and I once went to a Halloween party in very convincing Goth attire, but nobody else was dressed up, and people we met that night subsequently thought of us as Goth forevermore?). I can wear a costume, but I don't feel like I'm really presenting myself when I do.
And part of it is that I can't help feeling a little "wah wah, everyone else already knows each other." I don't want to go all Julie Powell on you, but it seemed almost as cliquey as my actual high school prom (although my date was much cuter to this one). I'm much better at being forthright and barging in on the cliques online, but what I love about blogging is that everyone has their space and their voice, and you get the opportunity to know people (or a version of people, really).