Sharkiecon is over.
For those of you who don’t know what the hell I’m talking about (very few of you ’cause I haven’t shut up about it for months), Sharkiecon is where a variety of super awesome people get on a plane to some toasty country, prance around in their favourite Black Milk pieces, party & end up jumping around a club in just a swimsuit. Thankfully I was not one of those people – the folks of Palma did not need to see that.
So, why the hell would I go on holiday with, essentially, 100 strangers? Why the fuck not? I got to meet people from all around Europe, mingle with the owner and staff of the company I’ve been following for years as well as getting my mitts on some awesome stuff.
In other words, I got to party with some hot little bosses. Here’s what happened:
Day 1 –
I’ll let you into a little secret – 5.30am is a horrible time to drag your arse out of bed especially if you’ve had a mild freak out about how much luggage you’ve actually packed (yes I got everything in hand luggage. Impressive, I know) and started flinging things out of the bag in a hysterical fashion. Jet2 don’t care. Jet2 didn’t even weigh my bag. Totally could have packed an anvil and they only time they’d notice is when I dragged it passed them on buckled wheels, crying, and in a puddle of sweat.
However they did play Let It Go on the plane and the nice lady next to me was convinced I was a singer in a band. Win/win situation really.
Now onto the good stuff – free things. Errrrybody loves a goodie bag but I’ve only ever got a few things in them. Let me tell you this; Black Milk don’t scrimp on this shit. Feast yer eye balls on this:
After a sever sand incident at the beach and a frolic in the sea where Señor Waveo caused many shenanigans with his salty stuff (that’s the waves to normal folk), it was time to hit the totally casual & tame ‘welcome to Sharkiecon’ party.
It was neither casual nor tame.
Imagine 100+ girls charging down a promenade screaming SHARKIE at everyone whilst forming a huge conga line and you have a slight inclining to the chaos that followed. But, saying that, 100+ girls clad in very tight (and in some cases revealing) nylon has it’s advantages. Entry into a club (that included dancing ladies and the Macarena) for €10 with a ridiculous amount of alcohol you say? Yes, yes I do. I’m not talking a few glasses/shots here and there. I’m talking 3 full-sized bottles and a jug of Red Bull plonked on just OUR table.
Shit. Got. Messy.
Day 2 –
This is where stuff got exciting. Getting to rummage around the next collection and wiggle your way into things that are probably too small whilst avoiding being half-naked behind someone taking a selfie. I failed at that last one – my arse is in a lot of other people’s photos. Soz pals.
Yes that last one looks like there’s a penis in the print. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Next event! The boat party. Shove roughly 90 girls on a boat with an unlimited(ish) bar and things are going to get interesting very quickly. First things first – clothes did not stay on for very long. It was like Pants Off Friday but on the wrong day and everyone was totally cool with it.
Oh yeah, and there was the small thing of filming the Black Milk podcast. If you don’t like screaming girls it’s probably best not to click play…
RANDOM BRAG MOMENT. Who won a pair of super awesome and ridiculous rare Black Milk earrings? This gal. Moment over.
And then I ran into the sea. Fully clothed as you do.
Day 3 –
The last official day of Sharkiecon included what most ladies had been waiting for. The sample sale. I have never seen people rush towards black, shiny packets and tear them open that quickly in my life. Some folk sat on the floor squishing the bags trying to work what was in it, others were figuring out which of the bags were heaviest and others just going ‘fuck it’ and digging into the first one they found. I, needless to say, was the latter.
And this is what I got:
So whilst the Little Lies Cape is beautiful, it’s just not really me and I’d never do the stupid thing any justice. And here’s where Sarah saves the frickin’ day; she only goes and swaps what she got for something I’d been eyeing up:
So it was only right that we spent the last day at the beach. I say the beach but I mainly bobbed around in the sea on an inflatable pizza (which I apparently broke. Again, soz pals) for 5 hours and hanging onto a banana boat for dear life whilst attempting to get salt water out of my eye which all resulted in an hilariously burnt nose.
And that was that.
After saying goodbye to some awesome folk, I have returned home with an extra goodie bag (well sneaky, innit?), hair that’s now tinged green (cheers, nature) and a nose that rivals Rudolph.
Until next year, eh?
