Toto, I have a feeling we're not in New York anymore

I had no idea what I was planning to wear 30 minutes before my first rave in Europe. The signs for the concert highlighted silver skyscrapers on an island, with an enormous upside down triangle above the city. The symbol was like something from an alien spacecraft, which added to the futuristic theme of the rave, Transmission.

So I decided to wear my American Apparel lace bodysuit with my French Connection crazy black and white tights. I thought it would be appropriate to do my makeup so I looked like an alien.


The O2 arena was freaking incredible. The main floor, scattered with empty plastic cups and water bottles (and condom wrappers), was enormous. There was also a reviewing stand with seats above the ground floor.

The first hour got my blood flowing. Chinese and Japanese characters were flying across screens. Pagodas were mystified with red haze.  I saw a woman in front of me wearing a backpack that looked like a sheep. I couldn't help but give the sheep a couple of squeezes. He felt soft and I thought I could almost hear him baaah. 

The crowd was a lot older than I expected it to be. No one was wearing crazy neon attire like they do in New York (and California, from what I see in Google Images). Kandi bracelets were nowhere to be seen, except for Ai's wrists. No light shows. Just girls in short sequined dresses and high heel pumps, holding a beer in their hands.

Sander van Doorn entered the stage and took over the future city of Moscow. Women dressed in armored bikinis filed onstage and started shaking their cone-shaped tops. The lights above me were like huge swirling candy canes, so thick, yet transparent, but altogether sweet. Red stars scrolled up the screens. I was being brainwashed. Communism.

Future Rio de Janeiro was next, and things started getting tribal. I just swayed with the music with my eyes closed. It was getting late.

30.

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