For the last couple years, it seems the “it” events for the West Indian social massive on New Year’s Day have been Sparkle or Chic. Last year, I wanted to attend Chic but ended up going to Toronto and spending it with three friends out yonder.
This year, the plan was to attend either of the balls. Since Chic had a horror story last year, I decided on Sparkle. Initially, I couldn’t pick between the two but after the reveal of soca artiste Bunji Garlin performing, my purchased ticket felt a lot more golden.
For those looking on reasons on which ball to go, all I can say is Sparkle has a more grown and sexy feel whereas Chic caters or attracts a younger crowd. Now that I have a first hand experience of the horror story which Sparkle endured this year, I will probably never attend another Sugarcane event again. Last year I heard through the soca feterans grapevine about the Under the Trees debacle and once an entity goes through too many issues with events, I rather just stay away. Although, last year I received second hand updates of Chic’s standing outside in line for hours issue, I can’t say which is best or worst but I will elaborate on the pure dotishness I experienced this year at Sparkle.
So I arrived to Sparkle on the later side. When I did wake up, I still had to put the finishing touches on my gown I was making. You can see the VLOG of the process of me making my gown here.
The ball was originally posted to run 8am-4pm. The evening before, ticket holders received emails stating the start time would be postponed from 8am to 10am and I thought, “okay, more time to recover from NYE celebrations right?” Sparkle’s venue was at the Restoration Plaza on Fulton Ave in Bed-Stuy and I arrived there around 2:20 ish.
My fleeky makeup courtesy of me
Now here it starts…
That day in New York happened to be one of the coldest days in some twenty years or something so (Don’t quote me, I’m not a meteorologist but that’s what the people and dem said!) When I walked to the venue, my dress was pierced by frigid winds and the ice cold temperature outside. Getting into the venue was no problem ; After scanning my ticket, I noticed the lobby area was full of patrons with their coats on. I couldn’t really figure out why but proceeded to take off my jacket and find my friends because after I worked so hard on beating my face and slaying this dress, it needs to be shown off right? WRONG.
The first issue was getting to the bathroom. From the lobby, I had to wait for one of two elevators which I had to take up to the second floor to get to a small, 3 stall bathroom. That didn’t faze me just yet. I was finally at the venue, I had two hours left to party and was ready to enjoy it. I checked my makeup, fixed my dress and went out to find my friends. I go back out to wait for this slow, old elevator and encounter a lady who is ranting about how “Sparkle” (the owner of Sugarcane restaurant, host of the event) knew this venue was a big F up. Now, I agreed the bathroom set up was a little stupid but all this??
I ask the security person manning the elevator where the coat check was and he responds, “I don’t think you wanna put your coat there.” So now I’m assuming maybe it’s understaffed or full but NO. I totally understood why he said so when I stepped into the main area of this Restoration Plaza. It was COLD. Not chilly, not breezy, but freezing cold. And along with being cold was the ram jam, sardine packed crowd in the corridors. Now, at this point I’m trying to text my friends, call them, video chat them and look at Sugarcane’s Instagram to find this layout plan of the plaza.
The layout is confusing, I’m stuck between people stepping on my train, pushing me out the way and frustration of already not being able to handle the madness in my first five minutes inside. In confusion, I head to my right to try and find my friends. I find myself in a tunnel sheltered by flapping pieces of a tent which were supposed to be heated. I didn’t make it twenty seconds walking down that tunnel without being forced to put on my jacket and briskly walk my way to the end clutching all pearls. When I did get to end, I ended up in a semi less crowded room which was supposed to be the food room. That room in itself was the truest definition of an ICE CUBE. I looked around at the food staff and patrons and everything looked disorganized. I didn’t even bother to join a line to get a plate of food because I knew there was no way the food could have been properly warmed even over a food warmer. I started wondering where these heated tents that were advertised were!
At this point, I was totally annoyed. I said I would give it ten minutes of looking for my friends before I called uber and took my cold behind home. I ventured my way once again, down the tunnel of ice, past the cigar room and towards the largest room which was also the most condensed with people. People were standing shoulder to shoulder with room not even enough to wine to the side.
So now, these questions are running through my head : WHY was this event so jam packed? I’m sure the event promoters knew how much people they were selling tickets to and the projected crowd being that this is a reoccurring popular event. Why not book a venue that could calmly accommodate us without having us squeezed into a cold, poorly executed spot like sardines? And WHY was the venue space so cold? Where was the heat? What Trinidadian thought to put a bunch of West Indians in a tent in winter? Even with 1,000 BTU’s of heat. A tent in winter makes no blasted sense!!!
Here is what Sugarcane posted when she revealed the venue two days before the event.
And I like fancy ting. So I was REALLLLLLLLYYY excited. It would have been my first time at this big ball with all these West Indian people coming together looking nice and enjoying soca in a beautiful way. Yes, we all came out glamorously but the amount of people standing up and not moving because they couldn’t move was depressing. The amount of people with beautiful gowns covered up by their coats or paired with knee high boots was tremendous. It was like we did ALL OF THIS to be frauded.
Some women had dresses customized , makeup professionally done and hair and nails done. Some of us brought friends and family from out of town. Not to mention those who paid for bottle packages and tables to have them tip and toppling over from the ever so often passing party goer. Too much money was spent on the meer fact of just attending on Sparkle alone for the service and quality to not be extended and reciprocated back to us paying patrons.
When I did finally find my friends, we had to shimmy our way on top of some concrete encasement around flowers because that was the only way we were able to move. It was only at THAT point, when I was above the crowd was I able to drink and enjoy a wine or two. Thankfully my friends and I could hold a vibe because JAH KNOW, all odds were against that party.
And then this bar and chit set up. I REAALLLLLY hate that. Yes, I get the concept but geesh ; We have people here that want to drink, people that want to buy bottles and you place a small dinky bar and chit set up in the corner of the largest room (I’m not sure about VIP because I was unable to get in). So I take my money to buy chits then have to somehow find a way to hop over (have a strongman lift me over) the concrete encasement to get in the line for the bar. The bartenders were very efficient in completing drink orders but the whole process was tiring. I couldn’t order two, three drinks at a time to save myself the stress and I wasn’t going to down a whole bottle by myself either.
AND THENNNNNNN
I hear the DJ announce Bunji is coming on. So I’m wondering okay, where is he? I notice two TV screens hanging on the wall light up. Now I’m all for taking things as they are and making the best of it BUT WEH DI ASS WAS BUNJI? He was tucked away in the ram jam VIP room (which actual VIP patrons couldn’t get into because of security’s inability to check wristbands early in the event). I also hear that this room was the only room equipped with adequate heat and part of the reason for why it was so overcrowded.
So, us people with general tickets were stuck watching ole camera man on the screen who rather wine and jam and tape people’s ankle than Bunji. I was in utter disbelief. If there was ANYTHING event promoters could have done right, was have Bunji perform and mash up the place with performance. It was not advertised that non VIP patrons would not be able to see his performance and with the set up of the Restoration Plaza, I’m not sure how having all patrons able to watch would have even been possible.
Take a look at some responses to my friend’s Instagram post on reviews of Chic & Sparkle.
Sugarcane came with this Instagram apology a day after the event was over….
I’ll let the comments above speak for this “apology”. It was my first time attending Sparkle and probably my last.
And this is the dress….
-❤️Choonks