Bohemian Soiree is like smelly crock pot dinner and makes me cranky like a Disney baby.

Okay, so LAST CHANCE to enter for the purse. I'll draw a name this evening!

In the meantime, I'll tell you about a Bohemian Bliss Soiree & Vagabond Flea Market that I attended last Friday evening with mi hermanita, Jen. (Who will not blog.)

Domestic Bliss (downtown Mesa store) billed it as a party, including food (bohemian light fare) and libations, plus a tour of 2 renovated 1920s bungalows.

Admission was $30, or $15 if you dressed 'Bohemian.' 15 bones is a lot of money, so we gave some serious thought to our attire. We were pretty sure Bohemia was somewhere near Germany, but we didn't have any dirndls. (Okay, I do have that one dirndl, from when my Mom worked in that art shop in Rothenburg ob der Tauber, in like, 1969. But I didn't feel like ironing it.) But also, 'soiree' is obviously frenchy, so it seemed like going German seemed sorta off-track. And anyway, Jen said I should fer shur wear my Nanette Lepore sequined flapper dress. I can't remember why, but she was dead certain. She isn't normally wrong about fashion.

So we got decked out, (Jen wore a taffeta wrap dress, a headband that looked like a hat, complete with netting and plumage, and a necklace she purchased on Etsy, made of coral fabric  rosettes, and showed up at the soiree around 7:30. I was sweating mightily, and we had to walk three blocks, so my feet hurt. (Jen also told me I couldn't wear gladiator sandals with a sequined flapper dress, even if they are copper like the sequins.)

So the soiree was quite an event. And not just marketing genius, which it obviously was, since there I stood, dressed up like it was Halloween, and paying money to shop in somebody's hot backyard. There were little booths filling two yards, front and back, packed with stuff. Most of it was decor, for booth ambiance, and not for sale. It was, at first, exhilarating. There was perhaps 30 minutes of oooohing and eye-feasting that went on.

During this time, we realized we were fairly over-dressed. 'Bohemian' had meant more funky, less 'Roaring 20s Prom'. Oh well. Jen's  headgear and Etsy necklace were going over big. We were having some trouble getting around because people wanted to stop and chat her up about them.

After the 30 minute honeymoon period, our eyes started to cross. We were like babies after a whole day at Disney: overstimulated and hungry. I was a little cranky, too, cause I'd forgotten to eat anything (but an entire can of loaded baked potato Pringles) all day. We saw some people with food, heard snatches of conversation that included "Pita Jungle," which, as you ought to know, if you live here, is good news. But we couldn't SEE any food. All we saw was a tent full of booziness.

So we struggled on, because there was so much to see. We listened to the girl playing guitar and singing like an angel. I purchased some burp cloths for a baby gift, one made of sock monkey fabric. I mean, who can turn down sock monkeys? We found a peach bellini that we hoped was virgin, and went through the bungalows. Still no food.

After 2 hours, we drug ourselves into the front yard and starting hiking back to the car. I'd spent $10. I was starving and mentally exhausted.

Why are craft boutiques dolled up to look like bohemian soirees so taxing? Why don't I buy anything? At first, it was a mystery. But after some careful thought and soul-searching, I came up with this: 

Boutiques are like crock pot cooking. When you first stick everything in and turn it on at 10 am, it smells so good. You salivate and dream about eating its contents. By 2 pm, you are still hungry, but the smell is getting strong, and your stomach starts to turn. By 6 pm, you serve it to your family, but you can't force yourself to eat a bite, after sniffing it for 8 hours. You scarf some cookie dough ice cream and call it good.

So if you really want to spend money at any sort craft show/boutique/soiree, you need to do it in the first 30 minutes. After that, you will be craft-satiated, paralyzed, and will be capable of nothing, save imbibing peach bellinis and searching in vain for the Pita Jungle. Be warned.

Anyhow, I'd totally go again. Disney might make babies cranky, but they always want to go back, right? Domestic Bliss said they will do another event, maybe in October. See you there?