Put Your Penis Pistols Away!

Hold a classy stagette*  and keep your dignity intact.

*hen's party for the southern hemisphere readers/bachelorette party for the US readers

I am not a fan of hen's parties. I find them embarrassing and degrading to the bride and the bride's friends.I don't understand why a bride's last night of freedom is seen as an excuse to execute a hurricane of sex, penis straws, mini-skirts and grinding with ugly men in crappy nightclubs. I was once subjected to a stagette where after arriving, I realized that the maid of honor was forcing the group to wear 't-shirts' to unify the group...I took to the t-shirts with a pair of scissors like a possessed Edward Scissor-hand and re-modeled them thus creating a more unique and couture look to the evening...perhaps not my best, most supportive friend moment, but nonetheless it made for a more exciting and original evening.

For this reason, I am not sure why I keep getting invited to participate in these events. I am not the 'happy, slutty party friend' and I often find myself sulking in a corner nursing a multitude of empty shot glasses. But, I recently went to Vegas (not BrisVegas, but a close second) for a stagette and came to two conclusions: (1) Classy stagette's exist if you want them to, and (2) The only way to do Vegas is with wigs. Perhaps there is a way to celebrate your sexuality, the end of your freedom and forge life-long friends ships without embarrassing all the invited parties.

But before I explain the beauty of doing Vegas with wigs, I will first discuss why it is important for the ladies to hold classy stagettes as opposed to the raucous, sex-infused trailer-trashy events similar to those I witnessed in Vegas.

If there was a scent created to attract stag and stagette parties to converge in Vegas it would smell like a post-coital explosion of old ejaculation mixed with a hint of Britney's perfume 'Hidden Fantasy' and a splash of fried chicken (it is the US after all...). The place is crawling with desperate, sadly dressed Ed Hardy rejects, and ladies in short, tight stripper numbers. The virginal bride does not exist in this sex-hole of pleasure. The bride usually has a sash, crown and is slurping on her vodka-cran through a fluorescent pink, spindly penis straw. Her girlfriends will be egging her on to dance with a number of men to give the idea that she is still sexy and can 'pull' or, they are dragging her up to a podium to 'grind' with her, providing a whole new definition for the term 'maid of honor'. 

Whilst lounging in the Palazzo pool club 'Azure' my friends and I were entertained for the afternoon in a way that no amount of Bud Light lime or margarita's could erase. On their very own platform were a group of girls in cheap lingerie grinding and pumping each other, flashing their boobs and drinking a white liquidy substance from a very large and veiny plastic penis pistol. They managed to corral a fine bunch of middle-aged men to happily lubricate the free show. Most male readers would agree that this is the Vegas they are paying for. As a female audience member, the show just sent the female plight back 50 years in the fight for feminism.

Put your penis pumps away, girls...it is time to give the stagette a much-needed make-over. Cue Stacy London and Clinton Kelly; it is time to re-vamp the tired and salacious stagette parties. Brides, you are the innocent victims here. The following rant goes out to the bride's friends:

Firstly, lose the penis pump and pathetic paraphernalia. If the bride is marrying a penis, they will have to spend the rest of their married life looking at one - why do you need to remind her of her impending fate on her last night as a semi-single lady? Instead, spend your cash on buying her a gorgeous dress, amazing heels and a manicure. Celebrate her sexuality by making her feel amazing, confident and in-control.

Secondly, (and for those who know me will be shocked by my next statement) relax the booze intake. Drink, do shots go crazy but feed your bride and give her lots of water. I saw too many sloppy bride-to-be's getting mauled. It is not a pretty sight.

Finally, invent a challenge that is both unique and original. We stayed in the Venetian Hotel and are all huge Madonna fans. We therefore planned a reenactment of Madge's 'Like a Virgin' video clip. I brought along my 80's 'Death Bride' wedding dress, dressed up our bride and (completely sober) we took her for a high-class fashion shoot. In support of our blushing bride, we all wore wigs. The wigs stayed on for the entire evening, confusing and delighting the drunken revelers. So much so that they would unabashedly cry 'That can't be real!'...(if only more people would do this when they spotted fake boobs, the world would be rid of the over-sized monstrosities). We went to an amazing Cirque du Soliel show called 'Love', partied in the nightclubs Tryst, Tao and Lavo. At Lavo we danced on the platform as good as the dancers - no grinding, or flashing of our crotches. We shot Patron and sipped our vodka-cran's san peni.

A classy stagette can be achieved. Perhaps wigs are not your thing, but find what works best for you and your bride-to-be. But please, leave the grinding, the penis-pistols and tack at home.