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| JJ Hart. |
Back in the day, the Cincinnati area used to host what was called the “Original” Witches Ball around the Halloween season of course. It was called “The Original” because several copycat dances had sprung up attempting to copy the success of the first one. Of significance to me was the ball that year was actually the third date my wife Liz and I had been on. Our first two dates had been to a drag show and a Renaissance festival, so another themed date would fit right in until we got to know each other better.
Perhaps the highlight of the witches’ ball was the venue itself.
It was in a huge vintage Victorian house which had been expanded in the past to
include an auditorium with a balcony and stage. For the evening, I thought I
would go all the way in black with a hand-picked outfit guaranteed to be fun
and just a little on the sleezy side. I went with a short black sleeveless
minidress with black panty hose, a sequined net shawl and black heels. Since I
was not quite to the point where I could style my own hair and wear it, I
decided to wear a long curly black wig I had purchased a long time ago. For the
party, we were even able to reserve a nearby hotel room so we could get ready
and spend the night without having to worry about driving since it was within
walking distance.
As I was to discover later in the evening, the only mistake
I made in my outfit was the high-heeled shoes I chose to wear. As the night
wore on, so did the strain the shoes put on my feet. Fortunately, I was able to
kick them off at key places in the venue which had carpeted floors. I guess you
could say I paid the price for fashion the night of the witch’s ball. Other
than that setback, I had a wonderful time with Liz enjoying the entertainment
on the main stage. The costume contest (which I did not enter) and all the
exotic belly dancers who performed during the evening in another part of the
venue.
All too soon the party was over, and my head was still
spinning over all the wonderful costumes I saw, all the vendors with their
merchandise and even getting an introduction to the “Captain Jack Sparrow”
impersonator who complimented me on my “costume.”
I was hoping the alcohol I consumed would dull the pain in
my feet for the walk back to the hotel in my heels, but it didn’t and off came
the heels and on came the sidewalk in my panty hose for the short walk back.
For all the fun I had, the brief pain was worth it. Little did I know at that
time, I would be able to return to the witches’ ball in the future in a much bigger
role as a behind the scenes organizer. And Liz and I would be able to cement
our relationship with other entertaining dates.
It turned out that the witches’ circle Liz was already part
of when I met her wanted to try to take on the huge task of organizing and
putting on another annual ball. The first thing they needed to do was negotiate
a rate for the same venue, which was crucial for the success of the event. Since
I enjoyed being part of the group putting together another ball, I was given
the opportunity to set up a vendor’s table to sell cookbooks and other crafts
the group had put together. The fact was not lost on me that I had transitioned
with all of them from a transgender woman to just another integral part of the
group. Or circle that it was referred to.
We only managed another
couple of balls in the original venue it had was so uniquely designed for. Old
and spooky to start with, it was simply ideal for what we wanted it for but the
newer future places just did not come up to its standards of uniqueness, and
the attendance began to decline. I did add an image showing what I did wear to
the last of the old-style Cincinnati Witches Balls. I chose my black silk pants
with a red sequined sleeveless top with my own hair this time around topped off
with an oversized black hat you can’t see in the picture. Furthermore, I learned
my shoe lessons this time around and wore a pair of sensible flats. The only positive
I got from researching where we could have our next event was being invited to visit
possible venues. Many of which were in Cincinnati brew pubs which meant I could
sample some good beer.
These days, the Witches’ Ball event still hangs on in a vastly
smaller form as it is held now only in a local bar. I, however, will always
remember what the event meant to me. I was able to express myself for the last
time in a hyper-Halloween atmosphere where I attempted to dress as a sexy woman
and this time with a date who would become my wife later in life. From then on,
I transitioned male to female into a world I had only dreamed of and any work I
did on the ball was from my new viewpoint. Not to mention, I really appreciated
the lack of special attention I received just because I was a trans woman in a
group made up primarily of ciswomen and a few men.
I would have never thought just going to such a special
venue for an outstanding event would lead to such far-reaching circumstances for
me. It proved once again how life can be a strange but wonderful set up of possibilities
which are there for you if you can ever set out to achieve them. For many of us
that is the problem which hurts us in life. If it is something you can’t
overcome.
Thanks for reading along and adding your comments. It makes it all so worthwhile for me!
