Week 3: Celebrate Good Times

1970s 

My third week in Porto Montenegro: All About 1974.
First, there was my sister's birthday to consider. Paige is her name. My one and only sibling and adored big sister. Before leaving Atlanta, I knew I would miss any celebration in person, so I gave her a present in advance. This included a cute Kate Spade travel and passport organizer. The message remains very clear. I want her to come see me soon. But, the 23rd of August, her birthday, was approaching and I needed more than a happy birthday long distance call. So, I became the Village's American wish monger and I gathered wishes in various languages from many people here at Porto Montenegro. "Happy birthday, Paige" was captured in Serbian/Montenegrin, Italian, Russian, Arabic, Spanish, and English.  Luckily for me, people were happy to help collaborate for a (very amateur) video montage. I even got the birthday song in Italian from my friend Laura, which I've since learned my niece Madeline continues to sing (her birthday followed on the 25th). So many of the contributors have asked me how her birthday was and if she enjoyed the video. I joked with Paige that they know her here- and they know me as Paige's sister. "Who is that?" "Oh, that's Paige's sister." "Who's Paige?" "I don't know, but she just had a birthday."
I had never used the iMovie app before and I can't say I learned a lot, but I learned enough to smash the wishes together and send it. She was thrilled and cried... because that's how we show we're so happy ;)... and my mission was complete. Sister feels loved.
While this was going on, I learned that the weekend's other 1974 celebration was themed. Guests were to dress in 1970s attire. The CEO at Porto Montenegro is turning 40 this year, as well.
The Venetian white theme, I pulled that off because I threw white pants in my suitcase at the last minute. I had ditched them and then put them back. I have several white tanks and tees. I just wore a BCBG white tank and Guess white trousers with a thinnest-of-thin black dashed pinstripe on them. Then, I put a giant jeweled necklace on and metallic heels and passed as all white. A 1970s costume- not as easy to pull off. I am theme party challenged. I rarely get it right even when I have my entire closet, thrift stores, costume stores and overnight delivery from Amazon. I missed the 80s once. How does one miss the 80s? It was a last minute participation, but that's no excuse. I was smack in the 90s, and the 80s is the biggest target ever! Plus, I am an 80s baby. Born 1980. I dig the 80s. And I missed it. It's a signature move that I'm looking to change. So, I was doubtful that I would look at all like 1970s anything.

No costumes, but okay.

I looked up American Hustle's costume design. Great movie. Great costumes, especially for Adams. It was subtle, a real life 70s. The main thing I saw was a plunging neckline- skin, gold jewelry, the evening bags, stilettos, and the iconic red lacquered nail. I did pack a dress with a very low neckline and I thought it could work. I started there and got the rest together. I blazed through downtown Tivat's stores. No luck. When I would say "costume", the store attendants would say "yes!" and take me to a suit fitting room, look at me and repeat "custom." What a difference an 'e' makes. I knew I was better off to smile and leave than try to google translate and image search through my iphone to communicate that I was looking for any angle of what may convey that we were from the 1970s fashion era. Therefore, everything I wore was something I really wear, except the headband, which was a last minute scissor snip of nude pantyhose. Plus, I went sans bra and that's as 70s (and as European) as one can get. Nick wore his own items too.
I wanted to offer up my red nails to sniff by all just to pay homage to Lawrence's character. I did not.

This is when you need your sister's arm to punch bug. 

As if by plan, there was a street blocked off in Tivat. Lining each side, vintage punch bugs! It was a VW retro spectacle- and fantastic timing.

The party- probably the best party I can remember.
Dinner was beginning when we arrived because Nick's work event overlapped in timing. Tables were set up at Lido rooftop, an open air restaurant overlooking the Lido pool and the Porto Montenegro marina. Nick and I were seated at a round table, at a 1:00 and 4:00 angle to one another. I met my dining comrades and posed for a photograph for one of them, in which I believe I was utterly cliche' and flashed the peace sign, just in case I wasn't American Hustle enough. Although, I may have missed that mark too, because my friend Tamara exclaimed when seeing me, "Oh!! Pocahontas hippie!!" I thought quickly. This worked. "Okay!" I agreed. That may qualify as an American Hustle story too. Only different and horrible.

Can you dig it? 
Meet Mr. Ivan Pekovic

The photographing fellow diner- an interesting one. His name, Rusty Young, and when asked what he does for life, his response was "Well, I'm a writer." Obviously, the next answer he'd provide was what he writes. He writes books. About what? This is the part that is absolutely not obvious. "About my time spent in a Bolivian prison." I don't even think I reacted to this. It was as if he'd said "my garden." He went on to explain that he wasn't sentenced to any sort of time in prison in Bolivia. He convinced authorities to let him stay in a prison in Bolivia. His book's subject matter was in this cell he sought and so, he wanted to be in this prison cell. In case you are wondering the name of the book, as I was, it is named Marching Powder. It has long been published and has since been adapted to a screenplay and the rights, purchased in part by Plan B Entertainment. That production company is owned by Brad Pitt. I'm thinking he may see a bit more success come his way in regards to this story. How about you? A safer bet. Rusty is still writing, he'll publish more, but in the meantime, I'm interested in reading his book. It isn't my typical go-to subject matter, but then again, I don't know what that would be anyway. He was friendly and funny. Nick and I both enjoyed our conversations with him during the night. I'll buy his book based on that alone.
Once at the table, we were immediately served wine and the courses started, so all this talk of Bolivian prisons and planet wandering (that belongs to him too) was over pasta and fish dishes. We were eating our truffle pasta, and due to the outdoor setting and night sky timing, Rusty questioned his taste for the odd pesto that he couldn't see before him. I told him it was truffle and one must like truffles to enjoy the dish. He responded that he did not like truffles. About ten minutes and one trip to the ladies' room later, I returned and he had eaten both his pasta and his wife's and had what could be the fastest taste acquirement for truffles in history. He revised his previous objection. There were others at the table, most from London. Friendly people, all ready for a good laugh and some 1970s dancing worthy of their gold foil dinner jackets.
They got that and more. We finished dinner with a champagne salute and then went to the outdoor pool area downstairs for the party. A dessert table, bar, dj, disco ball, strobe lights, roller girls with candy trays, fire twirlers, neon girls on stilts, and I can't even remember what else was outside. Amusements were flying from every direction. If my eyes weren't met with a neon yellow pant leg, I was being greeted with a rolling candy tray. This display was so fun to me that of all the candy on the tray, I selected one clear gummy bear. One. And I was so tickled over it. I remember this like I was out of body. I was awed and when 'presented tray' reached my selection domain, I reverted into my five year old self, when I had glistening eyes and held my smile until I couldn't anymore and then I said "I'll have this one!" As if I were choosing a Faberge' egg. My out of body self thought I was lame.

The party - best ever.

Exploring what was set up poolside at Lido. 

It was eye catching. Beautiful food.

Draping wind chime lights

Look at that magic coming from the Aquarius neck bling. 

So serious. Hah!

Peace.
(It's still a good idea, right.)

We've been friends for 40 years now! 

Nobody sits. I love it. 

I quickly brushed that off and grew up on the dance floor. No five year old self could be identified in my groovin' moves. "It's Raining Men" had never seemed as fantastic as it did on this night. I couldn't contain myself. (p.s. I didn't realize this song was only written in the 70s. It was released 82.) On one occasion someone made their way as if they were passing me, they tapped my shoulder like 'excuse me' and then paused like a still shot right behind me, closer than preferred because I prefer distance in general. I'm very American like that. When it comes to cultural differences one of the most obvious to me is regarding space. I grew up in lots of s   p   a   c   e. The personal space invasion isn't an invasion here. They don't take it personally. So, this random poser comes and freeze frames behind me and I get confirmation that this is peculiar from Laura who is seeing this straight ahead. Not that this matters. I just thought it was weird and remember it as well as I remember all the twirling fire daggers.

Fire dancers.

Laura being fab.

Boogie

Can you tell these girls are fun? Why not limbo under the glowing stilt girl?!

Inside Scaramanga night club, the era continued. A balloon pit entrance and record disc decor surrounded a packed dance floor and entertainment included another dj, a performed ceremonial set of dances in the midst of a techno beat, amongst others. Lights flashed and the disco ball twirled, shifting the light to make our dancing seem sexier than it was actually. Let's face it, no one's refusing help at this point in the night.
I thought back to the beginning of the evening, at dinner. The Londoner complimented our decision to move here, to this place he recognized as unique and with such an ideal location, centrally located for snappy travel. "Where else in Europe can you have this?" he asked. I wondered if this question became more and more pronounced in his thoughts. Because the night unfolded more and more of 'this'.  I appreciated his statement, that he thought our decision was wise. It wasn't necessary to say. And London, like New York, produces people so proud of their city that they view these places as the only worthy place in the world to have a life. He could see it and feel it though. And kindly, he acknowledged it. The hostess, the CEO / guest of honor's wife, has a little something to do with this. I'll follow suit and not hesitate at throwing acknowledgement toward where it belongs. To arrange a party like this takes so many detailed hours anywhere in the world. This type of party could make plenty of places exciting. But, he meant more than that, beyond our rooftop group. I knew what he meant because I could feel it too.
Week 3, I was reaching, still. As hoped for, I reached home to show my love and I reached backward to move forward into here, this place to embrace in the now. Dancing hard in a dress with a 70s plunging neckline, it's sort of like moving here. It's cutting loose. Doing it and not just trying it out because there's really no in between if you want to feel it like it should be felt. It's the brightest of red nail polishes and daring dresses and bold eyes. Life does have themes and although I don't want to be stuck in a category, I do want to think back on all these days and get the same sort of thrill out of a retrospect.

Pia, this party's coordinator aka the gift giver. Thank you, Pia!!

Even though she's expecting, she was a dancing queen.  

Get down!

Disco Decor
This is looking down at the cocktail table.

Celebrate!
The day of the party, August 23rd. The year of the theme, 1974:
My sister's birthday and birth year. One of my life's BIGGEST ever gifts! It's her birthday, but I got the lifetime gift!
My parent's anniversary. Reason why I have the BIGGEST gift ever!
My late grandmother's birthday. Without which I couldn't have my mom, the 1 of 2 possibly BIGGER than BIGGEST gifts ever! (The other being my dad.) Which led to a marriage and then to my sister.
So, this party may as well have been for me!! Because I can celebrate August 23, 1974 like it's my birthday. (omg, it just came too easy. forgive me.)