I had the pleasure of attending a weekend barbecue that featured some of the worst outfits this side of the Atlantic.

And I loved every minute of it.

There's something freeing about throwing off the shackles of societal custom in favor of the fashion of the fringes.
The fringes I refer to include Guidos and Don Hill Socialites.

The day started off rainy and damp, but turned out to be beautiful and sun drenched. A few guests, perhaps drunk with the sunlit vigor of the evening, could be seen indulging in fashion faux pas so horrific, that they reduced remaining guests into giggling gaggles of barbecue-filled fools.

It began with the overplaying of '80s music, which can have strident effects on large groups. People got to ripping shirts to show the delicate clavicles and pelvis of one poor guest who had no choice but to begin gyrating atop the deck tables for small bills. What else can you do in a flashdance-ripped t shirt?? The '80s "crawl" of course.

It ended with a another man's shirt being dismantled and topped with accessories. This poor gentleman saw the notch in his delicately screened, soft, gray t shirt ripped entirely down the center to expose his tanned torso. This "deep V tee" was then topped off with one of those large Run DMC style gold rope chains that the kids are so fond of this year. True mortification involved the last but not least accessory- aviator sunglasses that he continued to wear long after the sun went down.

He managed to discard the chain by passing it on for other guests to wear. The chain made the rounds along with a pair of hipster, Rivers Cuomo frames.

At one point, the host himself could be seen hunched over the barbecue, polo collar popped, rope chain dangling, spatula in hand. Still the best faux pas of all was committed by Yours Truly in a rare showing of complete lack of foresight. Or perhaps lack of skepticism.

The cool, rainy, early afternoon hours were my own and I spent them lunching while sporting a miniskirt, black rain boots, button down shirt, necktie and a sweater.

Post-luncheon I made the mistake of asking a straight man what he thought I should change into in order to be comfortably attired for the BBQ later that evening. OF COURSE he recommended I keep on the miniskirt. He's a straight male who'd prefer all women wore bikinis to the office. Had I not been tipsy with luncheon cocktail, I would have certainly known better.

When it comes to backyard events, a miniskirt is a good-for-nothing garment. You can't much move around in it and you only look decent when you're standing up. There's no sitting or lounging in one of these.

But there I stood at the barbecue; tank top, micro-mini and Nike Dunks. I looked like an official "ho in high-tops" and I still managed to have a blast. With all of the other freaky outfits in the place that night, I expect I fit right in.

Now, after hearing all that, don't you wish you'd been a party to this scene?

I thought so.