Smuggling as Art

Smuggling signs into a venue is not my forte. I’ve personally never tried because I don’t like the idea of holding something in the pit. Ya never know where you or your sign might end up during the night.

I have seen them get taken away though. I met a heartbroken girl at a Paramore show once who had her “I sing Misery Business” sign taken away before entering the venue, despite the fact that Hayley Williams always without fail picks someone from the crowd to come onstage to sing the song with her.

Many venues are anti-sign sticklers, and I wish I could offer solid advice there because it is important to know. But you’d think most venues would also be anti-confetti and anti-glitter sticklers, right? Well that’s where my smuggling experience comes in.

Imagine a couple of twentysomething-year-old girls trying to figure out how to hide foot-long confetti sticks and bags full of glitter bombs.

“Okay, how about I put my jacket over my bag like this?”
“No, that looks terrible. You look like you have a hump. They’ll totally see it.”
“Dammit… I don’t know where to put it!”

The confetti sticks ended up getting in via back hump that night if I remember correctly. The previous year they were buried beneath a jacket in someone’s bag.

The smaller containers of confetti and glitter bombs were my responsibility—naturally, because I bought and packed the glitter bombs.

(I bought the glitter the day after getting my hair re-dyed, immediately followed by this conversation I had with an older man on the train:
“I like your crazy red hair!”
“Thanks! I just got it done yesterday.”
“I hope you’re planning mischief.”
“Well I just bought four huge things of glitter, so I am actually.”)

The first thing to think about when planning a surprise like this is when it’s going to happen. Not so much what song (although of course that’s important too), but when the ideal moment is so as to not get banned from the venue or kicked out before the end of the show. Unfortunately making it into the venue is only half the battle.

As I mentioned, this had been done the year before. Not by me, unfortunately, as that was when I first met these girls who introduced me to the world of destroying venues. (That sounds bad, but… I mean, it’s basically true, isn’t it?)

Thank goodness I had pros on my side when I tried to take some reigns in planning. This year it was two shows back-to-back at the same venue, so getting banned after the first night was a legitimate concern that I was unaware of.

“So confetti during [XXX] on both nights…”
“That’s not a good idea. We could get banned if they see that we smuggled confetti in on the first night.”
“Ohhhh… You’re right. I don’t want to get banned.”
“Also it’ll be more of a surprise if it only happens on the second night.”
“True.”

“Okay so we’ll throw glitter during [XXX] and confetti during [XXX]…”
“If it’s too early in the night and they catch us they could kick us out.”
“Oh right…”
“We should do it all at one time at the end.”

Then there was even more of a scare the day of the second show when we happened to meet a girl whose friend DID in fact get kicked out of the venue the night before. I almost backed out of the plan until she said he was kicked out for “being too excited.” That means we should’ve gotten kicked out too. Obviously there was more to that story that he didn’t tell her.

My initial thought process going into the actual smuggling was that I would stick the glitter and confetti in a bag separate from the one I’d carry in the venue, and have someone on the inside (band member, manager, someone on the guest list with early access in, etc.) take it to the merch table for me before doors opened so as to avoid it being bag-checked.

Unfortunately, this venue sold merch for the band, so leaving a bag there was out of the question. That and the manager I tried to get ahold of from outside the venue didn’t see my message til the next day.

My next thought was to hide that bag while security went through my other bag. (I typically have a utility belt at shows. Maybe a little dorky, but it gets the job done hands-free. Priorities.) Hiding it would have given me that obnoxious side-hump, though, which would have looked much more suspicious than anything else.

Running low on options and time, I went for the “empty-the-stash-and-bring-in-an-empty-bag” approach. Wouldn’t an empty bag be suspicious in and of itself? I would’ve thought so.

I passed out as much as I could to my friends in line. A few people I didn’t know were open to helping as well.

“Do you have a place to hide a little container of glitter?”
“I have boobs.”
“Boobs! Perfect! Girls get glitter!”

I tended to double people up on glitter, though. One between the boobs, another in a pocket somewhere. If you have a bag: perfect, hide it under something. Here, take more.

The confetti I brought was a bit bigger (and much less successful than the sticks, we later found out) and therefore harder to hide. I got rid of most of it aside from three containers.

I separated the glitter still in my possession into different hidden pockets of the bag, the pockets of my shorts, and of course between my boobs. The three remaining confetti explosives had nowhere to go but to stay in the bag, so I had the genius idea of opening a different pocket when I got to security and telling them it was an empty bag for merch.

That didn’t last long.

The woman at security asked to see in the main pocket. I had already given her my “Oh, it’s empty. I just wanted something to put my merch in” spiel, but she looked in anyway.

And to my amazement, somehow didn’t notice that there were three things of confetti inside.

Or maybe she saw them and was cool with it. Who knows, maybe some venues aren’t sticklers? (I did befriend a waitress who was beyond into the idea of throwing glitter with me, so that could very well be the case.)

So we all got in with no problems, aside from one tattoo-covered studded-vest-wearing dude who got scared at the last second and dumped everything he had. It happens.

I only wish I had been paying attention to the man who apparently took a leaf blower to the stage at the end of the night.