Pop & Prep party report

When my friend forwarded me the e-vite for a Pop & Prep party, I was intrigued. The name conjured images of a new dance move: instead of popping and locking, it was now popping and prepping. I imagined preppy Upper East Side kids in knee high socks, blazers emblazoned with school crests and girls in patent leather headbands trying to dance to hip hop. I was clearly a little off the mark. I was dancing to hip hop in a black headband and argyle skirt around 3 a.m. though, doing my part to contribute to the new dance craze that lives only in the confines of my imagination.

The P & P party was themed - preppy with a little pop. I added my pop with saturated pink heels. The attendees - a mix of half kids, Japanese kids in their twenties who had attended international schools as children, foreign twenty-somethings somehow affiliated with the former two and the hangers-on. By this I mean Japanese girls whose only foreign language skills are the names of luxury brands and random Japanese guys who got dragged by their friends. It was a good crowd and since you can't hear my tone of voice I will tell you that I'm not being sarcastic. I even saw an investment banker I know wearing low riders.

Upon arriving everyone got to choose a pair of colour-framed Ray Ban wayfarers. Well, maybe it was actually Roy Bon now that I think about it. How cool! No one gives out party favours anymore. The party was held at an event space called Tangerine in Shibuya, so the vibe was good without any of that nastiness that so many clubs here reek of these days. People were friendly and silly, generally attractive and you could dance uninterrupted (except for a white-girl hunter I let talk to me for a little too long). Except for an unfortunate period of techno music (aren't they all) that made me feel like I was in the doldrums, I really couldn't complain. Even said hunter didn't ask too many inane questions about the kinds of Japanese foods I can't eat and was passably cute. The only real downer was when a girl (hanger on variety) walked into my stationary cigarette (for real) and decided to tell me "You.should.be.careful.You.burned.me." I don't approve of burning people and do conscientiously watch my lit tips although I do think she deserved a slap for acting like a righteous princess and assuming I spoke English. For all she knew I could have been Romanian. Of course these thoughts came to me after I apologized and then continued to imitate her with my friend like the adults we are. Next time I'll plead ignorance in English. Either that or stab her with the sharpened arm of my Roy Bons.