Weekend at Capote’s

We know you are not rich, social or beautiful enough to have been invited—you’re reading SN&R! This Friday, when Carla “Streckfus Persons” Frances hosted a most elite ball for Sacramento’s top-drawer socialites, all the hep cats were in attendance, dressed to the nines in celebration of her latest magnum opus: a recently announced engagement to the fabulous “Earl of Preston,” Sir J. Yeh VIII Esq. A number of female guests were seen in choice dresses sewn by the inspired hand of Atelier’s Amy Hemmens; the hostess herself looked exquisite in a diaphanous Naik Fur gown. The outfit called to mind a certain passage in The Great Gatsby, concerning the movement of curtains, and the “rippling and fluttering” of white dresses. Lepidopterologically speaking, Frances was fully metamorphosed into some rare specimen—a mysterious black-and-white butterfly, perhaps?

Among the guests was Forsythe Pendleton “James” Jones, who was sighted dancing with Penelope Tree’s next of kin, the stunning Heather Tree. The pair was unstoppable as an uncorked champagne bottle; they flew all around the room, hopelessly entwined in dance, propelled by an acute effervescence. Rumor has it that an invitation was sent to Ol’ Blue Eyes himself, for entertainment purposes, but—for reasons unknown—he declined the opportunity to excite prominent Sacramentan bobby-soxers with an appearance. Since The Voice didn’t show up, MOM saved the evening with her infamous musical stylings.

She jumped out from behind a curtain, wearing her usual red dress (a flash of color in an otherwise bi-chromic world), and the jitterbugging got so intense that the caviar nearly hatched. MOM, that deranged Annette Funicello-inspired matriarch we know and love, sang her warped Mickey Mouse Club songs to the delight of the crowd—and made sure to deflower a phrenological bust in the process.

What a “great, big, all-time spectacular present” for Frances. Congratulations to her—and the same goes for the Flatmancrooked team, who held the much-anticipated release of their new literary journal at Newsbeat on Second Saturday. The premiere issue of Flatmancrooked features wonderful new writing, as well as a Jorge Luis Borges story to satiate any closet Borges obsessives wandering the streets in search of a fix. The journal is cheaper than the hard stuff—only $20 from your local news agent. A smashing affair for the literary world, and quite literally smashing for anyone unfortunate enough to have gotten their feet stepped on by Flatmancrooked’s 9-foot robot mascot, who performed his namesake dance all night.