#Armparty has played a significant role in my life recently. For those who are unfamiliar with the term 'hashtag armparty' that I've been using, it's basically a synonym for arm candy that was coined by the awesome manrepeller. From posts where I pile up multiple audacious (atrocious for some 'normal' people) arm parties, I definitely have been (deeply) absorbed and influenced by the daily life of being a manrepeller. And I can reassure you that I have officially become a successful manrepeller (no pun intended), or at most probably still at the stage of impersonating her.
Reminiscing those days where arm parties were innate as a hassle and nuisance that could only impede my trys on unaffordable garments or cleansing my wrists. I guess manrepeller somehow manage to wake me up from the abyss I have been living in for the past sixteen years. Figure B shows a bohemian x tribal-esque arm party that my Matryoshka doll (actually it's a measuring cup) decided to werk it as a hat. Days of being arm naked are buried in the archives and now, not having ten pounds weighing down my wrists makes me feel bereft.
Not to forget they actually teach you how to be classy. They prevent you from being (and thus looking) unglamorous.
They always say beauty has a price to pay. And the price that tags along gorgeously elaborated and intricate wrist armaments further justify that statement. Dannijo is the best example to describe the aforementioned, where a paltry teenager could only stare at their website with dejected and sullen puppy eyes (not applicable if your parents are tycoons). Pleading my mum to splurge on a phenomenal (not to forget moderately expensive) arm party for me would equate to reducing her lifespan into half. That is why she chooses to say 'No' and/or 'No no'. She surely does not know the true benefits that arm parties bring. It isn't that surprising because she isn't a manrepeller, nor is she keen to comprehend the advantageous traits of arm parties.
Arm soirées, a subset of arm party also coined by manrepeller herself, is a more subtle version to arm party. Just from the term soirée, it is obvious that it's an invites-only gathering. That's why they evoke a daintier and classier version of arm party, yet not losing what constitutes to the term 'party'. This is how I picture an arm soirée. A mini get-together with the polished and anorexic-esque guests who are still pondering over Champagne or Moscato, and whom and where they should socialize. Above figure shows a majestic beast (aka horse for the horseweave) fetching my commonly worn arm soirées on its neck.
That's my story on the birth of arm parties. I wonder how many times I mentioned manrepeller in this post. Hmmm...