Vegas withdrawl

This is the time of year when many vintage lovers begin to day dream about Vegas. Specifically, the Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekender, which takes place each year over Easter weekend. My husband and I have been regular attendees of it — or the far superior, but discontinued Rockabilly Rave (RIP) — for several years now and it has been one of the highlights of our year. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll be going this year. It’s funny, I say “I don’t think” but really I know we aren’t going. We have no hotel booked and no tickets bought, but somehow I am still trying to convince myself that we might change our minds at the last minute and tear off across the desert to Vegas. Hope springs eternal.

Over the years, more and more douchebags attend and fewer and fewer of our friends show up. And those that do, are so lost in the sea of inhumanity we’d need GPS to find them. Last year we went and had what can only be described as a miserable time. I think we spent more time in the arcade playing Miss Pac Man or hiding up in our room to avoid the nightmarish crowds than we did at the actual festival. Even the band line-up was a little disappointing. Only a handful seemed worth climbing through the crowds of drunk, violent assholes to go see. Neither my husband or I imbibe, so experiencing this mess in full sober clarity is especially unpleasant.

So, reluctantly, we aren’t going back this year. Sigh. However, that doesn’t stop me from taking a photographic trip down memory lane. Especially since it’s always been the place  we bust out our finery and wear things we normally wouldn’t in our staid, modern lives.

For instance, the year my husband and I dressed in matching outfits the entire time.

This started as a dare between my husband and I. We’ve had these matching square dancing shirts for a few years and Vegas is the only place that he’ll dare wear his at the same time as me. He made some joke about how we should match the whole time, day and night, and he had to have known that I’d take him up on that. So a little ebay searching and a little sewing and we had five matching outfits. This was for the Rockabilly Rave, so we only had three days to dress for, which made it easier. We only got full length photos of us in the hotel room before we left, so my apologies for the crappy images, but it’s too good not to share.

Our first night. I LOVE the print of these but the muu muu was really a muu muu. I look like I might be as big as a house under there. I may try to alter that into something less tent-like some day.

Day two, daytime. Our square dance shirts.

Day two, night time. I made this dress and matching tie for Mr. Moe. This started a long line of dress and matching tie ensembles for us. Its such a fun little thing to do with any extra yardage you have from making a dress.

Day three, daytime. Back to the Hawaiian wear. I’ve had this dress for years, but searched out a matching shirt on eBay. Oddly enough, I had a shirt in this same print when I was a little kid. It’s gone to the ether now, but it was kind of fun buying a duplicate shirt as an adult.

Day three, night time. This was also one of our existing matching outfits. We used to wear this each year to my friend’s Kentucky Derby party — although in May I usually am wearing a giant, ridiculous hat, as well. I went more understated for Vegas. How often does someone say that?

I have a bunch of other photos I pulled to post here, but maybe I’ll wait for another time. I foresee more maudlin, nostalgic posts between now and Easter.

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