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So, if you’re anything like me you read “1920s prohibition party” and immediately thought “Oooooh! That’ll be the cat’s meow!” as you conjured up images of getting all dolled up in your glad rags for a night of gaily hoofing the Charleston to swanky live jazz music with your best sheiks and shebas, sipping classy real McCoy cocktails with a liberal helping of bitters from your ruby kisser, and puttin’ on the ritz in your flirtiest twenties finery. (FYI, the remainder of this blog post is going to be riddled with twenties slang. No shame.)

“Now you’re on the trolley!”

And then you saw the words “night at the museum” and your jaw hit the ground in gleeful anticipation of dashing about the heebie-jeebie inducing labyrinth of the museum halls at night in your flapper getup, navigating the ice cave, hoping the dinosaur skeleton or Native American display would come to life just for a minute, dive-bombing the ball pit, and tackling the rock climbing wall in the children’s wing.

If that was your vision (and it was indeed mine), this night surely did not disappoint! It was the bee’s knees, and how! Except nothing came to life. I thought I should clarify that, just in case.

There were twenties-inspired costumes for every Jane and fly boy. There was a live jazz band playing swanky tunes. There were Charleston lessons for all the hoofers out there. There was bathtub gin at the gin mill and bootleg liquor in the speakeasy (or, you know, classic twenties era cocktails with gin, egg, and lots and lots of rhubarb bitters at the bar).

There was 1920s trivia. And we smoked the competition taking home the grand prize of a bag full of nifty science gift shop goodies the likes of sore throat, stomach ache, and malaria stuffed animals, glow in the dark silly putty, postcards, and lollipops with crickets in them. We may not be the big cheese – just three dolls who were not alive in the 20s – but we’re no dumb Doras either! Never underestimate the power of a trio of smart dames/theatre majors. Also, Shawnda is the cat’s pajamas and a trivia goddess! A few of those trivia questions were toughies, but our smarts would have knocked your socks off!

There was a popcorn cart, and there were silent movies playing in the theatre.

There were handsome gents in bow ties and suspenders, flapper dresses and drop-waist frocks, feathers and mustaches, and miles and miles of great gams.

There were museum shenanigans not limited to a hover craft, a ball pit, a rock climbing wall, a weights & pulley system, an earthquake simulator, bones, and taxidermied animals.

Finally, there was an epic motion “submarine to the bottom of Lake Ontario” ride that lets you to feel what riding in a submarine might be like. Furthermore, they allowed us costumed saps to take alcoholic beverages in glasses without lids on the ride while the compartment tossed and turned and jerked up and down and to and fro. Clearly, it was amazing. I should also mention that you are approximately 50-75% more likely to feel the motion sickness on this seven minute long ride if you attempt this beeswax with an edge on you. P.S. Hope your drink wasn’t full when you got on.

And after all that merry making we owls left the juice joint only when the party ended and everyone was told to scram. So we followed up at Good Luck for some swell eats and another round of hotsy-totsy giggle water (oh, 1920s jargon, you slay me!)

And that, my dears, is what a swingin’ 1920s prohibition party at the museum looks like.

If you want to know where all that amazing slang came from: here. You’re welcome.

Until next time!