Who wouldn't want to party with these two?
The Gilmore Girls revival will be available on Netflix tomorrow.
To prepare, Matthew and I watched the entire series this summer.
And then we tried to line up at Luke’s Diner. But Lorelai would never stand in line for hours just for a cup of coffee, so neither did we. We found coffee (and donuts) elsewhere.
In an alternate universe, I would host an epic GG party — Am I the only one unimpressed that Christopher calls Georgia, his daughter, GG? Can you get a more obvious nod to the show’s title? — in four stages, in honour of the four new episodes.
In this universe, however, I am going to put on pjs and watch quietly, praying that the child in the next room doesn’t decide to join me. And it will probably take me four nights. Because exhaustion.
Back to the alternate universe.
Nadine’s Ultimate Gilmore Girls Party
Part One: Luke’s
(Poster: WindowShopGal)
Playlist: A whole lotta “la-las,” courtesy of Sam Phillips. And anytime anyone arrives, Carole King’s “Where You Lead I Will Follow” must play. (The version she rerecorded with her daughter. Obviously.)
This keychain will be hanging inside the door.
There will be coffee. Black. Strong. No fancy espresso drinks. Just drip coffee. Ideally, I’ll have built mug cubbies for the occasion. Like this:
(Photo: Design Sponge)
Cell phones will be turned off. (Download this sign for free.) Pancakes, donuts and burgers will be served. No one will actually finish their plate because no one does on the show and I don’t want to mess with the Gilmore tradition of dining and dashing. So moments after food is served, we’ll all abandon our plates and watch the first episode.
Part Two: Friday Night Dinner — Cocktail Hour
I would use this party as an excuse to get a bar cart. In this fantasy world, my toddler would have no interest in touching anything on it.
Drinks, anyone?
Gin martinis or white wine for the Lorelais in attendance — unless someone wants to do tequila shots and ruin a wedding.
Single-malt scotches for the Richards.
The super-sweet “Rory” cocktail for the Rorys — or club soda. She WAS underage for most of the show.
And some kind of generic beer — labelled "nitwit juice" — for the Lukes who probably don’t drink fancy drinks.
(The Emilys in the group can order whatever they want, and then fire whoever serves them.)
Part Three: Friday Night Dinner — Main and Dessert
At this point — we're halfway through the series and probably hungry — everyone should sit around a large table and make awkward small talk with each other, not sharing their true feelings about what they've watched so far. (In honour of the pilot, there should be lamb. And potatoes — maybe a little under-salted. Or just channel the original Lorelai and bring your own rabbit.)
We'll move back to the living room for after-dinner drinks, more coffee, and sweet treats from Switzerland: marzipan. Everyone will make faces and compare marzipan to Velveeta and plutonium — and then give theirs to me. Because on this one issue, I do not agree with the younger Gilmores. Marzipan for life, yo.
Part Four: Night In With the Gilmore Girls
We're in the home strech. Time for takeout! (And maybe for pyjamas.)
Check out this feast on the coffee table:
Chinese food (served in "Al's Pancake World" boxes). Pizza. Pop-Tarts. Mallomars. Ice-cream floats (served in cups labelled “Taylor’s Olde Fashioned Soda Shoppe"). And all the candy.
(If anyone knows a dog named Paul Anka, he's welcome to swing by at this point.)
We'll cuddle on the couch as we watch the final — probably for all of time — episode. We'll wait for those four final words. And cry.
Bonus: Breakfast
Assuming we've crammed all four parties into one night, it’s now morning. And we haven't forgotten Sookie. Nor have we forgotten her basket of muffin tops.
(And, like, Sookie, I'll wait until you've tried them — in apple cinnamon walnut, lemon poppyseed, apple spice, and double chocolate chip flavours — before asking you to babysit my kid. For an entire weekend. Too much?)
And because wasting food is uncool, we'll also eat muffin-bottom pie.
And drink more coffee.
And process what we just saw by talking a mile a minute, peppering our observations with charming witticisms and random pop-culture references.
And when the coffee's gone, the party's over.