I attended the Bridgerton immersive ball and it was a cathartic, frothy celebration that gave me the same feels as the show
- I attended the first live Bridgerton Experience in the US, which felt like a highbrow cosplay affair.
- As Netflix tries to keep fans engaged, immersive events like the Queen's Ball offer fun and merch.
In a lofty ballroom in the middle of downtown Los Angeles, Lady Whistledown addressed her dear readers.
"Welcome, friends, to the Queen's Ball. Such an evening as this promises to deliver its fair share of delights and grandeur." Somewhere, from speakers hidden among the floor-to-ceiling red velvet drapes or perhaps between the glittering chandeliers, Julie Andrews' regal, disembodied voice piped through as the infamous "Bridgerton" gossip columnist character.
Footmen in powdered wigs and gold tailcoats marched through, loudly proclaiming to the Ton the entrance of the queen, and the crowd — dozens of party guests in floor-length evening gowns and top hats — parted obligingly.
We may be citizens of the modern era, our smartphones jutted out to document every moment of this "Bridgerton Experience," but did we also immediately curtsy when Her Majesty haughtily glided by her subjects in a hoop-skirted gown and foot-tall wig?
You bet.
The first Bridgerton ball in the US is a period-piece fever dream, and I am here for it
For the next hour and a half, we were not in LA but in the world of Netflix and Shondaland's "Bridgerton" — where the romances are grand, the fashion is whimsically ahistorical, and the escapism is ramped up to an 11.
It is a period-piece fever dream. It is a fantasy. After two years of an all-too-real pandemic, it is time to party like it's 1813.
The SoCal version of the gala takes place at the Millennium Biltmore, whose gilded walls and Beaux Arts interior smoothly facilitate the shift from reality to Regency as you enter the hotel. (The Whistledown Ball, a similar event in London, began several weeks ago. The DC version of the Queen's Ball has also kicked off, with counterparts in Chicago and Montreal balls soon to follow.)
"Lady Whistledown's Society Papers," said a footman cheerily at the ball's entrance, handing out a faux gossip sheet and ushering guests through the wisteria-laden archway and into the hotel's Tiffany and Crystal ballrooms, where the queen was perched on a red-and-gold tufted sofa beneath a massive painting of what appears to be nobility holding court.
The whole affair is a concoction of Netflix and Shondaland, two companies looking to extend the life of their TV shows with live experiences like this nightly ball that runs through May. With Season 2 of "Bridgerton" newly released — and already quickly devoured on opening weekend — and Netflix's near-saturated American subscriber base, this kind of immersive event is an opportunity to engage a devoted fandom that had to wait 15 long months between seasons.
Nearly everyone came in costume, and I got caught up in the celebratory nature of the evening
On opening night, where two tickets cost me $56 apiece, just about everyone was committed to the bit. I hadn't seen so many empire-waist frocks since babydoll dresses took hold in the '90s. Many of the women in attendance — and it was mostly women — were delightedly interacting with a jaunty performer decked out in Regency garb and a top hat.
I was not above indulging in this fantasy. In fact, for fans of vintage reproduction fashion and period dramas like myself, it is a lovely one that sidesteps all the problematic parts of yearning for a bygone age.
In adapting Julia Quinn's original "Bridgerton" novels, mega-producer Shonda Rhimes and showrunner Chris Van Dusen crafted a diverse Regency era where women have agency and everyone appears to bathe on the regular. A similarly inclusive, celebratory vibe reigned at the Biltmore.
For the occasion, my very talented college friend — a cosplayer extraordinaire — insisted on creating a Regency-era dress for me. We chose a teal twill with velvet damask, inspired by Kate Sharma's peacock-blue gown from the second episode of the season, where she and Anthony Bridgerton butt heads at a horse race.
In Cinderella fashion, the dress arrived at my doorstep the night before the ball and felt like perfection.
The first stop after the purple floral entrance was the Modiste. While dressmaker Madame Delacroix was not in, a boutique across the way sold opera gloves, folding fans, and makeup from the new Pat McGrath Labs x Bridgerton collab.
By the looks of how many ladies at the ball are happily ponying up for tiaras and shirts that say "Duke," Netflix might be onto something with all this merch. I wound up bringing home a dainty teacup featuring a gold embossed bee. (If you know, you know.)
After two years of a pandemic, attending a live event felt both surreal and cathartic
The Tanqueray-sponsored bar (another official "Bridgerton" partnership) featured such cocktails as the Diamond of the Season — a mix of London dry gin, lemon juice, honey syrup, and hibiscus blueberry tea.
Past that was the ballroom where the queen was perched, not far from a large portrait studio that convincingly transformed digital photos into old-timey-looking oil paintings. From the string quartet flowed a classical rendition of Olivia Rodrigo's "good 4 u" as guests took turns curtsying before Her Majesty.
Later in the evening, the second ballroom opened and guests followed the queen to watch a lavender-lit performance of acrobatics and dance, a narrative unfolding between a pair of acrobatic lovebirds. The crowd watched, enrapt. One woman wiped away a tear.
Then there was dancing. So much dancing! This was the sort of event where audience participation is highly encouraged. We were taught an apparent bastardization of a Regency-era English country dance, producing something like the scene at the Netherfield Ball in the 2005 adaptation of "Pride & Prejudice," except with more fist pumping to Ariana Grande.
Finally, under wisteria and a rainfall of glitter, the queen chose the night's Diamond of the Season, one of the room's older revelers dressed in a jacquard cardigan and slacks. Never mind that none of this was real; it was genuinely quite sweet.
As Shondaland executive Sandie Bailey told me, there's one thing she hopes existing fans and new viewers take away from the Bridgerton Experience: "Joy. We all need to treat ourselves to a little bit of joy — especially in recent times."