La Nuit Blanche

“Harem Pants”, from La Redoute

Ok. I must have been living under a rock this past season. It turns out that The Poopy Pant I mentioned in a previous post was an all-out crazed fashion fad this year.

Called “Harem Pants” or “Hammer Pants”, also known as “The Poopy Pant”, “The Diaper Pant”, and other interesting appellations, I present to you, all the variations I have seen off the catwalk, and on the floor of the milongas in Buenos Aires.

I just had to do this, if only to remember the stupefaction I felt upon seeing what I can only describe as a couple of Star Wars characters doing perfectly executed triple back sacadas at practica.

The horror….

La Redoute

H&M

Top Shop

Rick Owens

Unknown

The following examples are particularly interesting and incomprehensible, and yes, I did see tangueras sporting these.  I wonder…  Wouldn’t these bother the leader with the constant brushing against thick fabric?  Wouldn’t the follower feel like Barney the purple dinosaur during giros?

The Poopy Bell – Top Shop

The Poopy Bubble (on right)

The dinosaur in question:

And the following is not exactly a Poopy Pant, since the seat is fitted to where it should be, but are an interesting variation on the Tango Genie Pant, because it morphs into a triangle-shape during pivots and boleos:

The Flying Batwings

To each her own…

Ok, so back to the adorable non-poopy Tango Genie Pants, Elizabeth of Working Artist has skillfully made her own in 45 minutes, with a pair of knit pyjama bottoms from Target. Priced $14.

Bravo!

Adam and Ciko, Coney Island, NYC 2008

The 6th Annual Mundial de Baile had an exhibition at Harrods on Avenida Florida this year. When my Lover and I chanced upon it, we scoured the old photographs and film stills of Gardel, Tita Merello, Troilo, Castillo, among others, on display in glass cabinets, and had fun watching a horrible live guitar performance on stage.

As we were walking out, I stopped dead in my tracks, and gasped. Gathered all in one place, from all around the gigantic city of Buenos Aires, were shop stands selling tango shoes and tango clothing. From Suipacha, Villa Crespo, San Telmo, Greta Flora, NeoTango, Mimi Pinzon, Tango Moda… they were all there together under a single roof.

Uh-oh…

I went straight for the tango pants, and bought 5 pairs at the drop of a hat, in all different colors.

I am really loving my genie pants. All those super-slinky, form-fitting, mini dresses I am too shy to wear with bare legs, can now be worn with these adorable, incredibly comfortable pants. Once you start wearing them, there is just no going back…

They cost about ARS$80 a pair, and if the shopkeeper happens to like you, and takes to calling you “mi querida, hermosa”, and you buy more than one pair, she’ll give you the special price of ARS$60. Which is US$20.

Lucky me…

On the way back home, on Avenida Cordoba, I found a small junior’s boutique called “Violet Violeta”. They sold the same genie pants there, except that it cost ARS$35. US$12.

I guess not so lucky me….

For those of you who can’t go to Buenos Aires, you can get your hands on a pair here: Tangoleva, or Tangodirect.  For men, I thought this was hilarious: CC Tango Pants

The prices, however, are unfortunately in US$.

P.S. Let me warn you, however, that there is a particular version of the genie pant that you do not want to mess with. A friend and I have dubbed it, “The Poopy Pants”. They ressemble the tango genie pants, except that the “seat” (or crotch area) extends down pass your knees.

Do not, I repeat, do not venture into this category of tango genie pant unless you are an incredibly good dancer (i.e. Eugenia Parrilla, Cecilia Garcia, etc. who can wear rainbow-colored plastic wrap, and still look good dancing), an ex-supermodel with a perfect body and passable technique and posture, or a current supermodel on the Yohji Yamamoto catwalk during Spring Fashion Week.

I beg you.

Ok, now for some fun.

What are the contents of your purse, tanguera? What are the contents of your pocket, tanguero? What are your milonga essentials, the things you can’t do without, or don’t want to do without?

Flipping my bag upside-down, I find:

1. keys, cash, cell, ipod
2. rubber hair bands, hair pins, clothing pins
3. band-aids, advil, eye drops, dental floss

Ok, now for the fun stuff:

4. breath-spray

…or mints

…or gum

5. parfum purse spray (my scent of the month:)

6. lip plumper

7. blotting paper

8. makeup freshener

9. hair freshener

10. hair stick (weapon or adorno?)

11. anti-bacterial spray

12. pepper spray

13. shoe hole punch (for stretching straps)

And here is something really cool I am looking to purchase:

14. miniature body massage roller

And

15. A tiny photo of myself, when I was 5 years-old. To remind myself to be… er… “nice.”

Think I’ve got too much? :)

All of these are miniature-sized, and they all fit into my lipstick-red enamel-leather 12X6X1 inch envelope purse. Pretty cool, ein? I carry around my tango shoes separately in a big canvas tote bag. What would we New Yorkers do without our canvas totes.

So. Tell me what’s in your’s, if you’d like to share.

Any tips?

Secret weapons?

And almost forgot (my own secret weapon):

And for those of you who are happily taken:

So I went to practica this weekend, and the Handsome Young Man who had mistook me for someone else was there.

He came and sat down beside me, saying he had felt so bad about mistaking my name last time, and that he had kept thinking about it, and couldn’t get it out of his head. Um dood… that was like three weeks ago… and you mistook my face, not just my name! :-| And no, I did not say that to this sweet man. Instead, I told him to forget about it, because a beautiful tango was playing, and I wanted to dance with him.

So off we went.

We slid. We slipped. On the slippery floor. We stepped on each other’s toes. I didn’t get the ocho cortado. I didn’t get the front boleo either. My heel stabbed him in the calf somehow, and I just hoped I didn’t draw blood. Heck, I even stabbed myself with my heel. And my forehead smashed into his nose once, going from open to close.

And it was wonderful!

Because he was handsome. Because he was attentive. Because he stopped doing figures and held me close. Because his walk was so beautiful. Because his embrace felt reassuring. Because he was handsome. And also because he was handsome, hehe. ;)

We danced three tandas together, including La Cumparsita, at the end of which, we promised to look for each other at the milongas. I do not think he had such a good time with me as I did with him, but ah well. He did smell divine…

Ladies, I think I have found the perfect way to refuse a dance, and without getting stuck in the “penalty box”. Just say:

“Actually, I am waiting for someone.” or,
“I promised the next tanda to someone else.”

It worked every time, and the men didn’t feel bad about the rejection… And I got to dance with someone else right after my refusal, because I was “waiting for him.” I felt kind of mean but… after all those times where I got such attitude for saying “No, Thank you,” I think this poor girl deserves a break!

So I haven’t been able to write or dance much these past few days.

My sister E. is visiting on a business trip for Fall Fashion Week here in New York. She’s the Director of Public Relations for a major cosmetics label, so naturally, she will be taking me backstage.

Yeah, right — I wish.

Backstage protocol is especially strict this year, so she won’t be able to sneak me in. So all those goodies (free makeup bags, loads of pizza, fizzy champagne, grainy spy-shots of primping gazelles through my quiet rangefinder) were not meant for me this year.

Pffft.

My dear sister is getting married in November. That means I will be taking a trip to Kiki de Montparnasse and getting her some things for her honeymoon, and to my secret boutique for her wedding-ceremony. She is a shoe maniac. She’s not a tango dancer, but maybe I will introduce her to her first pair of Comme Il Fauts…

I always cry at weddings.

I will be howling at my sister’s wedding, I know.

I will be dragging her to a milonga tonight, and I hope she gets inspired to start dancing too.

Speaking of sisters, tangobaby wrote a lovely post about Sisters of the Spirit, which I love. Tangobaby must be one of the most beautiful beings I have ever encountered, and I haven’t even met her (yet!). You will feel as I do, reading her writing.

E. and I used to sing along to this song when we were little, and we used to roll on the floor with laughter whenever this scene came on. So for your viewing pleasure, my dear sisters:

Now off I go to get dressed up for afternoon cocktails with E. I love getting dressed up for my sister. She loves that kind of thing. :)

Um, so this is what I look like at the end of a tanda:

(And this is what I look like at the end of a bad tanda, but that’s besides the point.)

Ladies, how do you deal with makeup? Specifically, eye makeup? I’ve probably tried a dozen “waterproof” products, such as:

and

which I thought were working, but apparently are not.

Shall I just forego the cat-eyes, and not want to look like this?

:(