"Funky Boston" Attire: In Case You Were Wondering...

What I went with for this evening's event...

Black blazer, white button-down, black cashmere vest, smoky quartz necklace, Pine IV Jeans, Manolo MaryJanes and the Balenciaga Vermillion bag.

(Picture shot while tipsy in the bathroom of the Liberty Hotel in Beacon Hill.)

The event I attended was the Boston launch of Virgin America (a new-ish airline).  They will being offering flights today (Feruary 12th) from Boston to a few destinations domestically.  And they seem like a really good airline, the likes of (actually, even better than) JetBlue.

You get WiFi on Virgin America.  (NICE!)

I (courtesy of Frogger) got VIP access, and got free drinks and food... And an opportunity to see Sir Richard Branson (the main guy at Virgin) some-what upclose.

I also got to see this 6 foot 8 guy named "Gary" at the party who was married, but fooling around with a woman on the couch next to us who wasn't wearing a wedding ring.  I was so distracted by Gary's height each time he got up that at one point I made an effort to ask him...

"So, dude... Exactly how tall are you? Because my husband is like 6 foot 5....  And you are definitely taller than him."

Gary told me his height (which is 6 foot 8 inches and one quarter), and then went back to conservatively making out with "not his wife."  Eventually, he said to her, "You know where we need to go now? Upstairs!"

He then came over to me and wished me a "fond good night." And then he and the lady-friend left. It took me a few seconds to realize...

1. We were in a hotel, and "upstairs" meant a room.
   
2. He was also trying to pick me up as he left to go upstairs with her.

E-to-the-W!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention (no offense) that Gary was like 70?  And did I mention, "I am married!"  Oh, and did I also mention, "I am so not attracted to him?"

I guess (and this happens a lot in Boston) that if you just talk to a man (like, ask him his height), they assume you are flirting with them...  When in reality, you are actually amazed by their circus-freak-like condition.  

After a while, Frogger and our third companion decided to "call it a night."  But before I left, I knew I had to do the following:

1. Down the rest of our drinks (personally) because I thought we had paid for them. (Frogger had to remind me, "Hey! Those were free! You don't have to drop them! We didn't pay for them!")
   
2. To steal the "British Flag" pillow on the couch we were sitting on...
   
   
   

I stole it for Frogger... As she said she "really liked it."

What are friends for???  She got me into the party, with VIP access, and I stole her a kick-ass pillow in return. 

As far as I am concerned, we're "same-sies" in the "effort" department for the evening.