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Contributed by Breonie Baylov and Tristan Uhl
One year ago this past Thursday night, I was nervously navigating my way through the crowd at the DList Two Year Anniversary Party. I was taking pictures and searching out cool looking people for a write-up on the event. The editor of Subterfuge—knowing that my clubbing experience could be summed up in one unfortunate visit to a college bar in Spokane—had her good friend Sheldon Roseveare meet me there. She would later describe her decision to send me as throwing the “little bunny rabbit to the wolves." I was very grateful, but still managed to flub things up a bit. I’d say the best example from that night was my asking a group of very attractive, well-dressed men the standard "name, occupation" questions. When they said “UFC fighters”, I laughed and said, “No, really. What do you do?” Despite their insistence, I wasn’t convinced. I ran into them again at the end of the night, and they offered to take a picture with me. I thought it’d be funny, so I got a picture with these nice looking men and told them I’d google them. You can imagine my mortification when it turned out they actually were UFC fighters.
A year wiser, I offered to go to the
DList Three Year Anniversary Party at the new
Hard Rock Cafe. Ever successful at party throwing, the
DList set was in fine form. The cool venue with a VIP section obviously enjoyed by the guests, an expansive bar and a fun music line-up had party-goers enthusiastic. I invited a partner in crime, fellow writer
Tristan Uhl. He is the best club date: He steers me away from trouble (except that which we get into together) and is an invaluable cohort when it comes to searching out the coolest street fashion. Some were beautiful, some
GQ-worthy. There were, of course, some tragic fashion faux paus and a lot of
Jersey Shore imitators. We could only capture a few snapshots in the crowded party, but they were our favorites.
Upstairs on the balcony of the café, the VIP section was a stylish rest from the energetic party below. We found Jim Rythm, a local singer.
Tristan: My favorite part of this outfit? Probably those arms to be honest...But seriously, I agree with Bre, the shirt and tie make this outfit. Love that tie—It reminds me of those piano key neckties. Whatever happened to those? The details in the dress shirt were really unique and I appreciated the modern take on a classic gingham.
Breonie: My favorite part of this was the tie and the shirt combination. Pattern play!
Watching the first performer, Doxology, we spotted the most gorgeous DJ I’ve ever met, Sharadawn, wearing a Karen Millen dress!
Tristan: All the details of this dress were just as charming and poised as Sharadawn herself. Truly a beacon of light in a room dark room filled with Christian Audigier.
Breonie: I loved everything about her: the hair cut, the dress, the shoes, her being a DJ!
I had to cross the room to get to this one. After some rough jostling and three ass grabs (even with Tristan holding my hand to keep me from being pulled into the mini groups of Guido gropers), we made it to the other side where we found these handsome men.
Sean Morgan is founder and owner of
Black Key Marketing Group.
Tristan: I remember Bre and I both stopping dead in our tracks by the bar when we saw this one and said "Okay, we have to get a picture of that guy!" He reminded me of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. He made some bold choices that would have otherwise bombed on many men but truly worked wonders for him. At a DList party, guys like this stick out. Handsome and stylish? Bre was certainly a little bashful around this beauty at first. Everytime I saw him later that night, I would shove Bre in his direction saying "OH! There he his again, talk to him!"
Breonie: Do you remember me joking as we walked in that I was going to meet the man of my dreams? You said, “Ewww!” and we thought this was a really funny joke. And then...there was Man of my GQ dreams. I will forever have a crush on this one. His friend was equally stylish...
Ryan Johnstone, a Portland based designer, caught the eye with this handsomely tailored vest—his own creation.
Tristan: He was cute and so was his outfit. Once again it was a relief to find a break in the sea of Seven jeans and Axe smell.
Breonie: I was happy to see a man wearing such a classic look. This beats the usual de rigeur club-wear for men: cliche True Religion jeans and an Ed Hardy t-shirt.
It wasn’t hard to spot these two DList beauties in the crowd. Kristen Puckhaber, Fashion Editor at DList and Jenascia Chakos, Fashion Director at DList caught our attention with Kristen's elaborate shoes and Jenascia’s nightclub-glamour dress.
Tristan: I was actually starting to get really ticked off because, everytime I tried to snag a picture of these two, people kept wandering in front of the camera, or even worse, bumping into me to get by. So rude. I literally gasped and said quite loudly "Now, THAT is a dress!" in front of a large group of women. Of course one of these women was wearing—no joke—orange tights over black panties, a homemade saran wrap top, and a black tulle fabric scrap shawl, so I didn't feel the least bit bad about it.
Breonie: I was so happy to see these two lovelies!
I'm typically such a good girl, but ending the night with a cigarette was fun, but I’d hoped to snag a hot dog as well.
Breonie: How much?
Hot Dog Man: $5.00
Breonie: Too rich for my blood. *Sadly walks away*
Breonie to Tristan: WTF?! Five bucks for a hot dog!?
Tristan: Hahahahaha! *Reminds Breonie of the delicious taco truck outside of the Bellwether parties—to give her something to look forward to.
LOVE IT!
I seriously think this is one of my favorite posts of all time! Love love love it! I felt like I was right there in the fun with you guys. Your yin to each other's yang works some serious literary wonders, my beautiful friends.
More of this please! P.S. I want to kiss Kristen's shoes, and I can picture that orange-tights disaster in my head. A blindly-following-half-hearted-Gaga-worshipper.
The last club experience of my own I saw a similiar catastrophe walking around in JUST a t-shirt! NO pants! I'm saying I could literally see each inch of her derriere! I pointed this out to the guys I was with (and really, if she didn't want that attention she A.) wouldn't have dressed like that and B.) wouldn't have ever so subtly turned her backside towards the bouncer who denied her access to VIP as a last ditch effort to gain entry (::catty snicker::). To my surpise, homegirl must have had this info relayed to her because she then gets in my face and screams, "IT'S A T-SHIRT!".....
I don't know what that means either, as the confusion and shock were never over the item that was quite clearly a t-shirt, but rather the lack of trousers. I did find out, however, that she was wearing painted-on, flesh-colored legging/tights. As though that somehow means I didn't *really* see every dimple in her bottom? Oh, the stylishly-tragic. What measuring stick would we have to judge the likes of the fabulous people you two captured above if it weren't for them?
Great work you two!!