When people say the word "onesie," they traditionally mean the snap-button-crotch piece of clothing that babies wear, but this party has broadened the definition to mean any body-covering piece of cloth that comes in one piece. My Plus One and I arrive at the Onesie Annual Classic woefully overdressed in multiple articles of clothing, but the generous hosts fit us in a svelte polyester muumuu and fetching sarong almost immediately.
There are partiers wearing wrestling jumpsuits, auto mechanic's togs, pajamas, modified shipping envelopes, and onesies that seem to have no other purpose than scandal. "Beer goes straight to the hips in this thing," says a slender man wearing a crushed-velour bodysuit that leaves nothing to the imagination. Other guests are learning the difficulty of wearing an article of clothing that connects their shoulders to their crotches—"My onesie gives me a massive wedgie every time I take a step!" Naturally, then, it's time for Twister, which looks even dirtier than normal with men in skintight scuba suits stretching their legs around women in fuzzy footie pajamas.
Downstairs, games of onesie Ping-Pong and onesie foosball are taking place. At first, they seem no different from the two-piece versions of the games, but one player manages to bounce a Ping-Pong ball off of the ceiling and ricochet it back into her forehead—clearly, hilarity will automatically ensue when onesies are involved. A woman, peering into the shadowy caverns of a man's onesie crotch, suddenly bellows: "Whoa! Where did those socks come from?" A dark secret of the masculine onesie has been revealed.
Want to tell The Stranger how "this sarong is going to pinch at your man-mams a little bit" at your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to firstname.lastname@example.org.