Guests were requested to wear white to designer Dan Proctor’s 50th birthday party. They walked into a room that matched their attire: a contemporary, minimalist lounge with low-slung couches and 1,500 candles, all white except for a poster at the back of the room that spelled “love” in black letters.
The 250 party-goers nibbled on hors d’oeuvres served on laptop keyboards as iconic images of love flashed on large screens behind. On a stage beneath the love poster, a Beatles tribute band played the group’s early ballads.
Unbeknownst to guests, Proctor had actually divided the space at the Tremont Grand into two separate parties. The first, in the white room, was a celebration of love. A second set of festivities dedicated to “beauty” awaited guests in another room.
About an hour into the party, a procession emerged with dancers in colorful Indian saris, adding an explosion of color to the white room. Proctor welcomed his guests from the stage, then disappeared behind a wall of fabric and emerged moments later in a vibrant peacock-blue robe reminiscent of traditional Indian wedding attire.
Bright flashing lights began to play across the room as Proctor led his guests in a procession to a transitional room, decorated to feel like an Indian bazaar, where party-goers picked up colorful trinkets and scarves to add to their white outfits.
The second party room, an Indian-themed festival of beauty, was filled with color. The band played songs from “Sgt. Pepper” while on a large screen behind them was projected a live-feed from the Taj Mahal. Cannons periodically sprinkled the room with gold Mylar confetti, making the room feel like “it was snowing gold,” Proctor says.
At 12:30, doors opened to reveal yet another room, filled with colorful beds, heaping baskets of fruit and a bellydancer. “It was the only part of the night that didn’t play out the way I saw it in my mind,” he says. “It was even better than what I had imagined.”
At 1 a.m., naan and simosas were replaced by a late-night breakfast, but the culinary highlight came at the end of the evening. Monte Cristo sandwiches (a recipe from the now-defunct Gampy’s) were served. The turkey, ham and cheese sandwiches, deep-fried and dipped in jelly, “were reminiscent of the nights we used to dance at the Hippo until 2 a.m. and then go to Gampy’s for them,” Proctor explains.
Those nights, though, were surely never as memorable as this one.
