Sorta Party Crash: 'Blazers & Bling' at the Yale Club

Perhaps a bit Lilly Pulitzer for February in town. But it seems that was sort of the point.

Friday night was the sure-to-be-repulsive 'Blazers & Bling' all-Ivy party at the Yale Club, and we confess we were curious. We were also, we assumed, very much not welcome, as the Yale Club hasn't been terribly thrilled with us since we suggested — in jest, people; in jest! — that the venue might make an ideal location for a terrorist attack. Recognizing a more cloak-and-dagger plan would be necessary, we instead deputized young Roric Tobin, a delightfully, dandily preppy man and a genuine Yale alumnus, to serve as Gawker's Vanderbilt Avenue Bureau Chief. After the jump, his report from the blue-blazered, captain's-hatted, bling-bejeweled front lines.

When I received my Yale Club bulletin and saw 'Blazers & Bling' listed among the upcoming events, I was at once intrigued, confused, horrified, and amused. Where on the Venn diagram could the Euler circles of preppy and hip-hop overlap? Other than a Burberry-print suit, it was beyond me. What is bling to a preppy, a tasteful strand of pearls? I was repulsed, sure, but also fascinated. I had to go, just from a sociological standpoint.

And here is what I saw.

It turns out, first, that the preppy/hip-hop meeting point involves furry pimp hats, giant plastic pearls, and light-up dollar-sign pendants, all of which were handed out at the front. Beyond that, I submit to you herewith the the raw carnage that was Blazers & Bling. On behalf of all of us, I'd like to formally apologize for what you are about to see. "God," one fellow Yalie wondered, "am I going to start telling people I went to Rutgers just to avoid being embarrassed by these people?" It's not a bad idea.

It's an ominous beginning when the only two people on the dancefloor are these two jackasses in Kangols dry-humping each other.

This is one of the Young Members' Activities Committee folks — that is, one of the people who planned this travesty. The pants are not punishment enough.

For the girls, it was blazers, bling, and booty.

Mr. Grouchy seemed confused and upset when I took his picture. This was surprising, because otherwise he looks like such a nice guy.

"We gotta hold on to what we got, doesn't make a difference if we make it or not..."

Pink shirt: "Hold my beer. I'm about to make an ass of myself." Navy blazer: "Awriiight."

As promised.

Does he mean "Westside"? Or "Williams," which had petitioned to be allowed into this "All-Ivy" event? One hopes the former — now that we've had to accept minorities and women, they're going to push for Williams grads, too? What's next, Arizona State?

Whatever it meant, he wouldn't stop doing it. It was a little scary.

Yalies reaching for money hanging from a baronial chandelier. Makes everything a touch too explicit, doesn't it?

Again, I'm sorry you all had to see this.