BALLin! FlyBy's Formal Reviews Pt. II

FlyBy donned our Sunday best every day last week while heading to each house's spring formal. Our guide to the balls being inadequate, a more thorough investigation was necessary. Below: Kirkland, Eliot and Lowell.

Kirkland:

When the uninitiated hear the words “Kirkland” and “Formal” in the same sentence, they usually raise their eyebrows in feigned comprehension and manufactured skepticism and say something like, “Oh, Kirkland has that incest thing, right?” It’s a classic case of fearing what one does not understand, a defense mechanism against that troubling desire to be rid of one’s society-imposed reservations and find out what goes on in that darkened JCR every December.

Fortunately, for the curious, Kirkland does provide one opportunity for outsiders to get a glimpse of the House at its most uninhibited with its Spring Formal. FlyBy was in attendance, and in the end we came to the conclusion that while Kirkland’s spring gala is not quite the family affair that its winter cousin is, Kirklanders will be Kirklanders and lit was as good of a time to see some Kirkland-on-Kirkland love as any. Check out FlyBy’s “live” blog of the formal after the jump.

9:05 – Officially, the Kirkland Spring Formal started at nine with hors d’oeuvres in the dining hall, but with the average Harvard student’s biological drinking clock just starting to tick, FlyBy sees a full table of food and just a handful of people when he peeks through the d-hall window on his way to Doma.

9:34 – Pregames are going full-swing by this point—with a seniors-only event going on somewhere in the house—and FlyBy’s room is no different. While FlyBy generally sticks to the finest that Mr. Rubinoff has to offer, we've decided to class it up even more this time around, splurging on some premium bubbly (re: Andre). Ok fine, there’s Rubinoff too. But you know how it goes: start wit’ straight shots, and then pop bottles.

9:56 – FlyBy starts getting the drunk munchies early, so we slips down to the dining hall to get some grub. HUDS has laid out an impressive spread, with all the necessary standards—cheese and crackers, vegetables and dip, cocktail shrimp—along with some awesome chicken puffs and crab things. Tragically, all the pigs in a blanket are gone by the time FlyBy showed up.

10:21 – Dancing technically started at ten, but people are still milling around the dining hall chatting it up and taking advantage of the open bar. All you need to drink is a friend or two over 21 or the balls to tug on some random senior’s sleeve till he or she finally relents and goes to the bar for you. Spreading love (and drink) that's the Kirkland way.

11:13 – The HoCo hired Downtown Fever to play in the tent set up with a dance floor in the courtyard. The Top-40 cover band has an interesting style, putting a twist on your run of the mill radio hits with guitar riffs and blaring horns.

12ish – You can take the Incest Fest out of the Kirklander, but you can’t take the Kirklander out of the Incest Fest. Trust me, that makes a lot of sense to FlyBy right now. Anyway, the open bar is doing its work as people are making out and becoming more liberal with their dance moves.

Somewhere between 12 and 2 – Kirkland House Drama means more than just the unapologetic vulgarization of Shakespeare and Neil Simon plays. Harvard formals are sort of like proms, and just like in high school, sometimes tempers flare and feelings get hurt. Says one Kirklander and prominent member of The Crimson: “I’m too hammered and dateless for this.”

Around 2 – Downtown Fever plays Flo Rida’s “Right Round.” The song is appropriate. Most heads in the room are likely spinning at this point, FlyBy’s included.

2 – The dancing wraps up and people wander around the courtyard. Some head to quarters unknown, date in tow. Some linger, hoping to find something (or someone) to do. Some hear about champagne in the Adams courtyard and rush off, heels clicking away into the night.

Eliot:

There's something different about the Eliot Fete. Blame it on the stacks of miniature cupcakes, the quickly exhausted platters of fruit and cheese, the Christmas lights encircling the terrace...or maybe just blame it on the fact that the Fete is known for being very exclusive, ergo everything must be a lot nicer than it actually is. (Sorta like Harvard, now that we think about it).

But self-perpetuated illusions aside, the Fete was tres fantastique. What was once the good ol' Eliot courtyard literally lit up for the night and threw a mysterious glow on the flushed cheeks of partygoers. The night was perfect for general roaming, and one could make a palatable pit stop by the cupcake blowout on the terrace or linger in the shadows with that lucky date. For those quick on their feet, there was swing-dancing in the tent and grinding in the dining hall. Your pick—although we must say that the swing-dancing quite tickled even our non-rhythmic fancy.

We must say, however, that the weirdest part about Fete is just how refined everyone seems to be (even the creeps who stayed in the dark dhall all night and never emerged). Again, maybe it's the name value, but Fete was really good at convincing you that you were part of something special for the night—your unwashed date was actually an indie hipster, your worn-out dress was just a reminder of how Cinderella-esque your life is, and your cupcake binge (yes, mentioned for the third time) was actually a delicate manifestation of your fine gustatory sensibilities.

And maybe you were a paragon of refinement at the Fete. All FlyBy knows is that we feel awkward all over again.

Lowell:

Lowell threw open it's magnificent wears for its annual Bacchanalia. Was it as wild enough to deserve the name of Bacchus?

Probably not, but the affair had many other charms. Clearly, it was the courtyard's time to shine: given that every nook and cranny was used, formal-goers got to explore all the contours of the space. While FlyBy felt it made the formal feel a bit more sparsely populated, each section had its own charms.

The swing-dancing was absolutely divine. Stuffed with awkward and completely inexperienced couples, everyone had a good time bumping into each other while trying different spins and jigs. The live band was fantastic, sticking close to jazzy tunes with a variety of tempos for all the dancers to test their mettle. The other courtyard featured the drinks, where the BAT team served them stiff, but also included random (but well candled) tables populating the grassy area (they did serve as resting spots for the drunk and weary, however).

Inside, the food in the JCR reminded FlyBy of info session food a bit too much (yeah, not a pleasant flashback). And the bump-n-grind area? Solid. Relatively unpopulated for most of the time, DJ Straus kept everyone's body movin' with some sweet mixes for most of the night. But as the general gripe with DJ Straus goes: the attendants craved classics to sing along to as the night came to a close...and DJ Straus refused to deliver. No big loss though...

Photo: Wikimedia Commons/Henry Millot