PowerBalladLast weekend I went to the perfect lesbian soiree – a power ballad costume party. Imagine a house full of dykes dressed up as everything from Axl Rose to Pat Benatar, belting out slow-tempo rock songs about love and heartbreak.

When you think about it, lesbians and power ballads go hand in hand. We’re tough on the outside, emo on the inside and many of us still rock an 80s mullet.

My girlfriend and I were torn on what to wear. So many power ballads, so many potential costumes.

We talked about Roxette’s classic Listen To Your Heart, but neither of us knew where to find a stethoscope.

I thought I was onto a winner with the theme from Top Gun, Take My Breath Away, but my gf didn’t like my suggestion of an auto-erotic-asphyxiation inspired outfit.

Then there was The Bangles’, Eternal Flame – but we figured that might be dangerous after a few drinks, even if fire did heighten the emotion.

So we settled on Hungry Eyes, the dance-along hit from Dirty Dancing. On the day of the party, we cut eyeballs, teeth and tongues out of cardboard to create a giant pair of mutant hungry eyes. Power ballad crafternoon!

Everyone at the party looked amazing. A friend of ours had her arm wrapped in bandages with feathers sticking out of it – a clever depiction of Mr Mister’s, Broken Wings.

But the coolest thing was the impromptu performances. An authentic looking Linda Perry had all the lesbians singing along to her acoustic rendition of 4 Non Blondes’, What’s Up? And an awesomely slutty Cher turned back time in the lounge room, as a sailor boi danced alongside her.

I didn’t realise until after the performance that the fishnet stockings-clad “Cher” was actually someone I knew. She looked nothing like the androg, karate-master who goes out with my mate. My friend even said there’s no way she’d have sex with her girlfriend looking like that, although gay men would probably jump at the chance.

When Hungry Eyes came on my gf and I did a little show. She did knee slides across the floor while I fed cheese and water crackers to my hungry eye.

As the night kicked on, I formed a huddle with the soccer dykes and chanted along to Eye Of The Tiger. More than once. With feeling.

Nothing could kill our vibe except Meatloaf’s I Would Do Anything For Love, which sparked a deep conversation on the meaning of “That”, and why Meatloaf wouldn’t do it.

At this point I sensed it was best to flick my power ballad switch off and head home.

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