Girls Night Out: The Tasting Room
There's something about doing your hair and makeup, strapping on some heels, and walking into a room full of your best friends that seems to change your energy from the inside out. The break from the mundane everyday tasks of course has something to do with it, but you just can't beat sharing a glass of sparkling wine with close friends, seated on beautiful, velvet-wrapped antique chairs while the sun sets outside the window.
This particular evening, we were celebrating the first out of three upcoming brides-to-be in our group. Our common thread is our love of music and performance, all having worked together in our very own Stage Door Canteen in the National World War II Museum. The group is called the Victory Belles, an Andrews Sister style singing and dancing trio performing 1940s classics as well as patriotic material. The Belles have become something of a sorority, a sisterhood. Some of us, myself included, have "retired" as Victory Belles to pursue career changes or starting a family. You see, being a Belle requires a lot of commitment, and you spend a majority of your time in rehearsals and performances in very close quarters with these other women. You almost don't have a choice in becoming close, but luckily for us, we naturally get along very well.
It's not uncommon for us to have themed get togethers and wine nights, but as we get older, and start families and change careers, these events are becoming fewer and farther between, making each moment together that much more special.
The Tasting Room on Magazine street served as the perfect backdrop for our bachelorette shindig. This group of wine lovers started the night off sharing a bottle of Sparkling rose, moved on to customized wine flights ("take me to Spain", one girl requested), and capped off the evening with a glass of our personal favorite.
There were belly laughs and full bellies, tears of sadness and tears of I can't believe Dody just said that in public. Only three (very curated) gifts were obviously inappropriate (individualized, delicate hand paintings of genitalia spelling out L-O-V-E). Two of the most crafty gals in our group prepared a beach-ready bag for the honeymooners, and leftover tissue paper rendered the perfect bouquet for our bride that night.
Over five hours, we shared each other's latest news, advised our bride-to-be on all that is most embarrassing and most encouraged related to love, sex, and marriage, worked our way through piles of cheese, meats, and olives, overloaded on pasta, bread, and truffle fries, and somehow managed to fit in some dessert. Oh, and we only broke one wine glass.