i take everything back about albanian women (if i ever said anything stupid). there is no A-list hollywood party, no rich saudi sheikh harem, that compares to a simple birth celebration. there are dresses, there are curls, there is blinging jewelry and stilettos. and the make-up, ahh the makeup. it takes days to put on and then days to take off.
me and my cheap red HM beads hid in a corner and stuffed our faces with food and wine. there was absolutely nothing we wanted to say, no movement to attract more attention that we were already getting. we had fun though. the baby (it was her birthday after all) was delicious, a little puffball in a purple dress and pink headband, a trooper who never cried no matter how many matrons pinched its cheeks and how many girls screeched over it.
it amazes me how these girls do it. it was not only the mother, but everybody else as well. the kids too. one little girl of about seven had more mascara than I did, and way more lipstic for sure. she must have woken up very early. thank God for that extra hour.
so anyway the party was good, even if there were about 150 “closest” female relatives jumping up and down to the same music and with the same steps for about four hours. no men…except for the ones we brought with us. they should put this on the invitation though. BYOM. (Bring your own men).