The extravagance made my teeth hurt.
Fractures of light bounced off diamonds set into tiaras and other baubles that were as impractical as the silk frocks and dress jackets swimming about the room. Champagne flutes and vodka shots flew by on trays lofted high by servants dressed in simple black bodysuits, casting the partygoers into even more ridiculous relief. This wasn’t an imperial ballroom in a great royal palace in Sweden – it was just modeled to look like one. The aim was to forget where we were and why. Everyone accomplished that beautifully.