We were young. I was hot. Not much older than my chicas are, now. Smokin'...
We DC Types get invited to a lot of fundraisers. For political parties. For causes. To meet authors. To hang out with the high & mighty muckety-mucks who run this town.
Yes, I'm sure taxpayer funds were involved, somehow. They always are. The lobbyists pay for these "affairs" with private funds, but someone always gets squeezed. Fancy party. Sky-high bill. Corporation picks up the tab. Passes costs along to the consumer. What do economists call this? Throughput, perhaps? I think so.
This Gatsby soirée took place on Halloween weekend one year. As you can see, we went all out. And, no, that's not our car. We posed for pix, along with all the other party-goers, at an area of the hotel ballroom set aside for such janx.
I wish we'd captured this moment, or the evening, or the pre-party preparations, on video. I'd love to see footage of my former self. Wouldn't you?
When my youngest looks at this Superior Snap, she says, "Mom, you were hot!" Smokin', in fact.