A very Henri Halloween
Henri’s first party was in 1968, when being openly gay could be dangerous to your health, but that didn’t stop him.
Why don’t skeletons ever go trick-or-treating?
Because they have no body to go with.
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Sorry about that. Thought I’d try a little joke — very little — to help me introduce the 58th edition of the iconic and legendary Henri David Halloween Ball.
The Halloween Ball is always held on Halloween, even when it inconveniently, as Henri would say, fell on a “school” night, such as Monday. But this year — joy of joys — it falls on Saturday, which happens every seven years or so.
Over the years Henri’s party has had many locations, and this is his third year at the Kimmel Center, Broad and Spruce. Since landing at the Kimmel, doors open at 7:30, with costume judging starting at 10, and many costumes are, as Henri might say, splendiferous.
(Judging used to be at midnight, them were the days, but the move to Kimmel changed the program to more closely follow a theater schedule.)
Other things don’t change, such as the party’s motto: “Don’t come as you are, come as you want to be.”
There are nine categories (and, yes, some overlap): Most Hysterical, Best Comic Book Character, Most Horrifying, Best Sensual Fantasy, Most Original Couple, Best Celebrity Look Alike, Most Beautiful Female Impersonator, Most Believable Female Impersonator, Most Unbelievably Spectacular.
Whew.
Tickets are $25 for people in costume, $75 for “voyeurs.” (A simple mask counts as a costume.) Tickets can be ordered through the Kimmel at www.EnsembleArtsPhilly.org, or at the door.
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Henri’s first party was in 1968, when being openly gay could be dangerous to your health, but that didn’t stop him. His Halloween party was where gays and straights could socialize, even ogle each other. There is usually a lot to ogle at a Henri Halloween.
Did I mention he is one of Philly’s leading jewelers? Sometimes I forget that not everyone knows everything. And he maintains his prominence without advertising, without even a website.
Not to brag, but during my Big Deal days at the Daily News, for many years I was the head judge of the celebrity panel assembled by Henri. I never knew if that was because of my column, or because I was the only judge who was both sober and able to add points. That’s why I wore the judge’s robe.
I will close with another groaner:
What’s a ghost’s favorite dessert?
I scream.
