Ola Quinceanesaara

In honour of our friend/family member’s birthday this week, we decided to have a very unauthentic, highly un-credible surprise Quinceanera. (It sounds so mudge more profezzional than mehican night, don’t you think?) Invites were made, a pun on the theme was incorporated (obvs, because what is life without cheesy wordplay) and outfits were planned.

quincy

I opted to make the pinata. A perfect The List Thingy Opportunity!

After a week of smelling like flour and water, a room scattered with newspaper and cardboard, floor littered with every colour crepe paper available to man (seriously, I think I may have developed an aversion to rainbows now), smelling like flour and water and smelling like flour and water, a pinata was born!
*Please note, forgetting a certain amount of flour and water mixture in one’s room, may result in a er, fragrance, that lingers quite a bit. Hypothetically speaking of course.

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steve

Steve, as explained to the guests, was his slave name, while Alejandro was his true ethnic name. (I don’t even know if that’s a legitimate mehican name).

I’m going to be honest and say that he was originally fashioned after a donkey. But as most creatives will tell you, you need to be open to innovation, and so without even thinking about it, he transformed in to what can best be described as a llama…er, giraffe? Basically his mother (probably a llama) fell in love with someone from the wrong side of the tracks (a giraffe) and the result was this guy.

OR he was a donkey with aspirations of one day becoming a pinata. He ventured too far away from the farm house and came across a VAT OF TOXIC WASTE. Into which he subsequently fell.

OR he was a plain guy, born in to a reserved, conservative family, so different to himself. He had hopes of traveling, making a name for himself in showbiz, maybe move to the Big City. A few years lader, he moved to Vegas and established himself as a very popular cabaret singing tranvestite!

OR maybe…Oh, maybe I should stop now. Ahem.

After spending so mudge time in an enclosed space with him, literally styling his hair (mane?), I naturally developed a loving (read questionable) relationship with Steve. On our way to the party, I gently explained to him his purpose and the impending doom awaiting him. His silence let me know that he’d come to terms with what would happen and he was ok with it. And so I accepted it as well. I ain’t gon front, his demise hit me hard. Get it? Hit? Too soon? Ok.

steve-mcqueen

Tahir and I also spent some time considering what to put inside Steve. Why candy? Why not slangetjies, daltjie mix, mebos or soup?
Dhal was a big favourite. Imagine the pardy, Steve hung up, dripping and leaking because of the sheer weight of his belly. He gets hit open, dhal sprays on to everybody, everyone starts screaming, crying ensues and everyone goes home smelling of borrie, with hare vol dhal mix. While we were extremely partial to that idea, we voted against it, after 20 minutes of laughing. I seriously developed a wheeze and may now have a mild case of asthma.

steve-hangs

We were also told to dress to the Mehican theme. Again, I take themes very seriously. Sometimes I actually wonder if I worry people with my commitment to the character. Anyway, obviously I had to be Frida Kahlo, because who wouldn’t wanna emulate that sweet sweet monobrow and lipz fuzz?
Probably no one. That’s who.

frida-and-santi

But NOOOO, NAT MUST DRESS UP LIKE A WOMAN WITH FASZHIAL HAIR.
After a while I kept thinking “Is this wise? What if these real humans think that this is actually what you look like when you don’t go to Rashmi/Minakshi/Behiye/whatever other indian/asian woman is available for hair removal?”
“What if people are nervous because they don’t know if you’re a hairy female, or a small latino male?”
“What if everyone thinks you’re the weird uncle that no ones speaks about and that they keep in the garage? But someone forgot to lock it that night and you escaped because you smelled the sweet scent of burritos!”
And then I remembered that I didn’t care. Hahaha!

frida-again

and-again

So let’s talk about why pinata’s are amazing.
IT IS A LEGALLY BEATABLE OBJECT, THAT, WHEN CRACKED OPEN, SPILLS AN ABUNDANCE OF CANDY ON TO THE FLOOR
Pros IT IS A LEGALLY BEATABLE OBJECT…you get the idea
Cons Someone can very possibly be mistaken for said pinata and get beaten to death.
“I’m hitting and hitting, no candy is coming out. Oh wait, something came out. Hmm, feels hard and a bit like a tooth. What kind of candy is this smooshy thing?” and then it’s someone’s lung. And we all go to jail.

Shoutout to naseertjie and neeszh for being great planners and cooks.
And to tahir for his organization skills. And obviously for being my lover/man servant Santiago.

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