By Sarah Lolley
A theatrical party on a grand scale, Attack Theatre’s Dirty Ball is at the top of Pittsburgh’s short list of must-be-seen-wearing-a-crazy-outfit, or as little as possible, events. The last time this mama got down and dirty at the annual fundraiser, I was six months pregnant the weekend before I was running down to Louisiana to be barefoot and married.
Some of my favorite souls from my Pittsburgh party days support Attack Theatre’s generations of drama and dance. Todd Owens, whom I met when he was managing the band Brownie Mary, hugged me like a long lost friend and led me over to the window at the South Side Jane Street Warehouse during the donor party.
“You are one of the only people who can appreciate what we are looking at!” He said pointing at a row house across the street as if he were gazing at his empire. “That is my old apartment that I lived in with Cookie and the guitar player Rich. Didn’t you use to date him?”
“No! That was my roommate, Amy! I was with a couple of the drummers,” I giggled.
Ever present when there is creative couture around, Rich and Cindy Engler are always the happiest people at a party. Rich, who is historic in event promotions, is a long-time acquaintance since he use to let me cover his concerts and even let me sneak backstage to interview musicians when I was starting out as a college reporter.
Rich was sporting his fashion statement with a shirt he ran over with a painted car wheel. “We are party people! We just love to have fun!” said Cindy, who was wearing a rock-star outfit by Issey Miyake. Incidentally, so was I.
Enter half naked mermaids and cross dressing pirates. The scene at the Dirty Ball is always mindful to be abnormally imaginative. This year the theme was Pirates vs. Robots, which for Nakturnal’s Leigh Yock equaled a sexy alien. Leigh was accompanied by DJ Mad Tom Brown, who was my crazy roommate for a spell. Now he is a sight for my sore, wrinkled eyes, and still knows how to turn a beat for some booty shaking and blow some mad glass. No more glass throwing is always a plus. Wink. Wink.
It was the witching hour when a truck load of pizza arrived for the hundreds of people working the dance floor. That made a lot of revelers happy, but I think I eat more pizza now with three toddlers under my skirt than I did in college. I guess I am glad my skirts are longer these days.
The night ended with tribal beats and a few notable moms I spotted dancing in a childlike frenzy. Inhibitions were flying like, well, like a pirate wearing panties.
When the always well-dressed Tori Mistick adjusted a sea goddess’ dress to cover her bobbing nibbles, she responded as if Tori had committed a faux pas. “Well, I guess you know my anatomy now,” She replied and proceeded to undulate around the crowd.
Well, I guess it is a “dirty” ball after all.
