Coco Got Nauti

September 16th, 2016

Story originally written and experienced: September 9th – September 11th 2016


Everything happened so fast.


I wasn’t surprised.

That’s how weekends always went when Coco was involved.


Classic Coco.

And this time we were in Charleston, South Carolina, dressed to the nines and dancing like fools because…

Coco was getting married.

happy crying

And this was her damn bachelorette party.




Charleston was a first-time destination for most of us (including the bride). So when we all arrived with our petite weekend bags from all <corners> of the <country>, we were surprised and delighted by the bright pastel homes,   l   o  n  g  cobblestone streets and white-pillared boutiques that outlined the entire delta.

Night one was all about costumes.

Flapper costumes to be exact.

(Excuse me while I over-commit to the theme)

Excuse me while I over-commit to the theme.


We decked out in sparkling headbands:


Shimmering dresses:


And of course, candy cigarettes:

Sober alert.

Sober alert.


Not to mention.

Some authentic 1920’s dance moves were involved:

As was a roaring-20s-themed DJ:

"Get out of here, I need space."

Just like the olden days.


After copious amounts of throwing our hands in the air like we just didn’t care and hip thrusting our hearts out:


Like so.

We headed home late night via the local, over-priced rickshaw:



With all of our motor skills (relatively) in tact..:

Where Coco promptly screamed at our chauffeur as soon as we dismounted for charging us $15 to go around the corner.

Lunch time is about to be a showdown.

Dramatic reenactment.

Then we ate a lot of chips and went to bed.

Day 2 started off with a Mimosa-like bang.


Like so.

Especially after the waitress told us at brunch that one of Coco’s faraway friends ordered in two additional carafes for our enjoyment.




Debauchery-induced yet still somehow in control, we ventured afterwards to a nearby rooftop bar wearing our gifted attire:


And did things like, request the pregnant mademoiselle in our group to smash into the restaurant’s most expensive artwork like this:


“LOOK AT HER BELLY!” – They all said diabolically drunk.


Then we got on a boat.

Even better, a sunset cruise. We switched up our ensembles so that the girls were in black and the bride was in white, and everyone topped their heads with sailor hats designed precisely for the occasion.


Rollin deep.



Shameless add-in pic of me.


The ride was great for 3 reasons.

1. There was a teeny-tiny weenie puppy named “First mate Lulu” aboard the entire time




2. An older couple walked onto our boat, saw it was full of bachelorettes, and walked the fuck away because they didn’t want to deal with our shenanigans




3. Coco fell asleep

Bride down.

Bride down.


But only for a second.

Before we knew it, she was laughing hysterically with booze in hand after one waft of vodka in her face:

She's awake ya'll!

She’s back ya’ll!


The evening continued on with Mexican food and Mexican drinks:


Thank god.


Followed by jamming out on stage with bands:


And witnessing them play songs with a Corona bottle in lieu of a guitar pick…

And like lightning-speed clockwork.

The weekend was over.

Thing is.

More happened before, during and after all of this, all falling under the category of #nauti.


For the sake of keeping secrets…

I’ll keep the recap clean …and just leave you with this:


What a babe.

Love you Coco.

Always happy to be by your side whether it’s eating lunch with you in Harris dining hall freshman year of college or standing next to you on your wedding day.

Here’s to hoping we break out the blonde highlights, hoop earrings, and bejeweled tiaras again on your big day…