The
Parties.
We were always chasing the next strange night.
Houses, rooftops, galleries, museums, warehouses and office buildings.
Costumes, performances, dancing, and beautiful chaos.
These are the parties that appear in The Pronoia Effect, and a few of the nights that made us fall in love with Baltimore.
Hoodoo
Dance Party.
That spring we threw a big book launch party for one of our writers who was new to town. We rallied everyone we knew and hosted a Hoodoo Dance Party, a nod to his book.
We held it at the Spy Club, above the Midtown Yacht Club. The only way in was through a secret bookshelf that turned and opened into a narrow stairwell.
People showed up in top hats and petticoats, feathers and fortune-teller scarves. Facepaint and washboards. Jazz legends Lafayette Gilchrist and John Dierker played. Justin performed. So did half our friends.
“I Put a Spell on You” ran through the night, raw and unhinged. The walls practically vibrated.
After midnight, the whole place erupted. Bodies moved like they’d been waiting years to shake something loose.
Hoodoo Dance Party mashupVideo by Shaun Callahan. Photos by Philip Laubner and Theresa Keil.
Surprise birthday party
+ marriage proposal.
On my thirtieth birthday, my mom and I went out for the afternoon. The music started as we walked back through the front door. Friends filled every room. My best friend from college had flown up from Florida without telling me.
I had never had a surprise party before.
Justin had found a trumpet player who had once jammed with Louis Armstrong. He had coordinated the whole thing in secret, rehearsing with our friends for weeks. Together they sang “What a Wonderful World,” the trumpet lifting the melody above their voices while laughter tumbled through the house.
In the middle of it all, Justin dropped to one knee.
I was crying before the question was finished. I said yes.
The proposalVideo by Brady Starr. Photos by Philip Laubner.
The Christmas
Party.
Sometimes we talked about the early days. The house full of music. My dad at the organ. Someone at the piano. Tambourines passed hand to hand. Pots and pans pulled from the kitchen and beaten like drums. Everyone dancing and singing together. Laughter vibrating through the walls.
That was what we missed.
So we started dreaming again.
The Christmas Party recapVideo by Shaun Callahan, Pep Video. Photos by Philip Laubner and Theresa Keil.
The Christmas PartyVideo by Justin Allen.
The Wedding
Party.
We had a simple wedding in my parents’ backyard. Seventy-five people. One of our writer friends officiated.
For the walk down the aisle, my dad drove his red vintage Mercedes 450SL convertible down the alley while I sat perched on the back, bouquet in hand. Gatsby was Justin’s best man, walked in on his red leash.
Our friends and family set up the chairs and decorated the wedding arch. Friends did my hair and makeup, took the photographs, played violin and guitar during the ceremony, and DJ’d the reception. The whole wedding cost less than four thousand dollars.
Then the jam session broke out. Suddenly everyone had an instrument. My dad was on the keyboard, Justin on the mic, friends passing tambourines and shakers hand to hand.
Joy didn’t need a budget. It needed a good beat.
The
FritzBall.
We threw FritzBall for the people who had supported What Weekly’s fundraising campaign, taking over a comic book museum for a night of costumes, music, and beautiful absurdity.
A stilt walker towered over the crowd. A sword swallower performed between the exhibits. DJ El Suprimo spun records while superheroes, pop icons, and alter egos filled the dance floor.
The party honored Kyle Fritz, the friend who had spent countless unpaid hours building the What Weekly website.
Justin and I came as Bonnie and Clyde. I was five months pregnant.
I danced until my legs ached.
The FritzBall recapVideo by Shaun Callahan, Pep Video. Photos by Philip Laubner, Theresa Keil and Larry Cohen.
The Mad Men
Party.
The cigarettes were fake. The whiskey was not.
When we moved What Works Studio into our new office on North Charles Street, we celebrated the only way that made sense: a Mad Men party. Everyone came dressed for 1964, cocktails in hand, while DJ AK supplied the soundtrack.
It was part office warming, part costume party, and entirely us.
Collection 01 · Baltimore, 2013–2016Light CityA citywide festival of light, music, and innovation, drawing more than 400,000 people in its first year.
Collection 02 · Baltimore, 2010–2016What WeeklyAn experiment in documenting the people making Baltimore interesting.