Every year, maybe ten or so colleges at Cambridge hold May Balls (which happen in June — a list here). The aim seems to be to throw as lavish and decadant party as possible. You pay between £75 and £175 (A$190-440) for a night of: eating seafood and other yumminess; drinking champagne and cocktails; watching fireworks; lounging in chauffered punts; listening to live jazz, rock and classical music; play at the casino, rifle range and on funfair rides; relaxing with masseurs; applauding roving stilt walkers, fire breathers and magicians; and finishing up with formal breakfast.
Tickets are on sale now. Although pricey, I would normally be inclined to go. May Balls are such an iconic Cambridge experience. The problem is, though, I’ve been studying and cooking so much that I have no friends. Without friends, it would not be fun, regardless of how amazing the spectacle. So, alas, Cinderjoan will stay at home, reading her textbook in front of the ashes of the fireplace.
The dress code at the Magdalene May Ball website simultaneously horrified me and made me envious. The event is white tie, “the most formal dress code that exists for civilians today in the United Kingdom.” The May Ball committee is relentlessly specific.
Formal evening dress is more strictly regulated than other forms of dress, and consists of the following:
- Black tailcoat with silk (ribbed or satin) facings, sharply cut-away at the front.
- Matching black trousers trimmed by braid or satin on the outside for each trouser leg….
And it goes on for three pages, describing shoes, socks, shirt studs, gloves, top hat, opera cape, and so on.
They are more restrained with the dress code for ladies, asking only for full length ball gown, stole or cape, jewelery, a clutch bag, and “Gloves — (optional) if worn, should be opera length (over the elbow, reaching to the biceps.)”
I thought that I’d never have the opportunity to dress like that in my whole life. I thought only princesses could wear full length ballgowns. I’m starting to feel the opportunity lost.
Wah! I wish I could go! I applied to Cambridge once you know… didn’t get in (its the story of my life).
FYI – wearing white tie to anything that ISN’T a white tie event is a faux pas of the highest order.
(I’ve been known to get away with it once or twice in Australia though)
Haha… I commented to Damo, ‘Daniel wouldn’t have any trouble with this long list of demands.’
I think it’s good that they’re strict with their dress code. I hate it how in Australia people often ignore dress codes (like in those award nights which are supposedly “black tie” people come in with open-necked shirts).
What’s the point of having a dress code if you’re not going to stick to it?
I like rules too. I guess I recoil at the cost of these particular rules. I can see how being super dressed up would add so much more to the atmosphere of the evening. I reckon that if you paid £170 for a ticket, you’d have to spend at least £100 on an outfit. That’ll be a A$600+ evening of revelry. Ouch.
That’s if you have a partner. Otherwise you’d have to have a pair of tickets to yourself. 😛
Interesting how they only sell tickets in pairs. It doesn’t specify that it has to be a couple-pair though. Interesting.
Oh, it’s even more expensive if you have a partner! It’ll cost £330 for a pair of tickets to go to Magdalene May Ball. I was probably overestimating the cost for a single ticket. I should have quoted half of £330, which is £165.
So for two people, tickets and outfits would probably be $530. At least you wouldn’t go by limousine, I imagine. Cambridge is so small it wouldn’t be worth going by limo. Taxi would be my guess. Or bike 🙂
Ah, I see what you mean, Vera. You mean that if you didn’t have a friend to share the cost of a pair of tickets, you’d be in for a very expensive night indeed.
Ah, good old Magdalene and its white tie balls. If it’s any consolation, I’ve heard theirs are frightfully stuffy and overrated (poor food, etc)…we went to Trinity last year after I pulled a coup and scored tickets. I agree, though, that it’s not much fun without friends — CB and I had a good time, but friends would have been nice when the night waned and the eyes drooped…but hey, I found a perfectly nice formal gown for 20 USD at home (go, secondhand stores), and no one could tell. So that made me feel a little better after spending about 300 quid on the tickets.
Ahhhh… Joan! I wish I could go to the May Ball! It will be fun.
now you’re being silly… of course you wouldn’t take a limo. You’d have a carriage with white horses dressed in impossibly high plumes.
My next big question… does anyone actually dance at these balls. I mean dance-dance, y’know waltzes, mazurkas etc.
don’t the tabs lead overall in the number of times they won the boat race AND the varsity match? A pretty determined bunch of peasants if you ask me…
Damjan, don’t you want to prance around with me? Or can’t you afford it? 🙂
Daniel, I don’t think there’s ‘real’ dancing at most May Balls (but there will surely be ‘real’ drinking, which facilitiates fake dancing). I did find a guy in my course who does swing and rock’n’roll. Shock! Why didn’t he tell me? All this time I’ve wasted.
I’ve found some friends! We’re going to try to get into Clare May Ball. It might be tricky as demand is high. It also costs £105 (A$260). I guess that’s why I have a scholarship, right? To enjoy the Cambridge student life.