“You see that girl? She dyed her hair for this trip. And that one? I guarantee she bought those shoes specifically for Las Vegas.” Julia* sipped her coffee as she eyed the people riding the elevator from the entrance of Mandalay Bay up to the concourse that connected the resort to Luxor, one of the other properties on the Las Vegas Strip.
I studied the 20-something women that Julia had pointed out. The first had long reddish hair with a kick of blond highlights that added volume while the second teetered on a pair of spiked, jeweled black heels. Were they made by Prada or perhaps Gucci? I had no way of knowing. It was 110 degrees out, and I was rolling in a pair of Old Navy flip flops.
Sitting with Julia at The Reading Room, just off to the side of the elevator, was always an enlightening experience. She was a pop culture professor at one of the local colleges and studied the ebb and flow of Las Vegas eccentricities with a researcher’s eye. People-watching on the Las Vegas Strip was an entirely different experience with someone who looked at the passersby as subjects and statistics rather than just glammed up girls and guys on the prowl.
Las Vegas is a peculiar case study, really. The place I call home is a destination for people hoping to live out their desires of celebrity sightings, wild pool parties, extravagant meals, all-night parties and get-rich-quick casino gambling. The thinking seems to go like this: They wouldn’t do these things in their everyday lives, so why should they do them as their everyday selves? As a result, according to Julia, people undergo plastic surgery, have Botox treatments, buy outlandishly expensive clothing, stuff their feet into uncomfortable shoes and get new hair styles specifically for their trips to Las Vegas.
On any incoming flight to Las Vegas, it’s easy to tell who the visitors are. They’re the ones drinking too much, laughing loudly with their friends and wearing clothes that are way too uncomfortable for a plane ride. I get that. The energy in Las Vegas is addicting.
Once they hop off the flight, they live their alternative life for the duration of the trip. They shop for things they will never really wear once they get back home, continue to drink too much, drop too much cash at the nightclubs, wear itty bitty swimsuits they wouldn’t dare show their mothers and spend the night with strangers.
As Julia and I lounge in our torn jeans and cheap t-shirts, our hair tossed back in ponytails, we watch these women and men who have gone out of their way to live it up in Las Vegas. This adult playground is like a never-ending Halloween party, with people in costumes, walking around as made-up characters. This façade is also what overwhelms and turns so many people off from the city, which is unfortunate because beyond the boob jobs and tough guy acts is a fascinating city with an unusual history, wonderful cuisine, opportunities for adventure enthusiasts, a thriving arts scene and lots of philanthropic work.
Julia and I people-watch for hours, and it’s easy to point out those who have come to Las Vegas to escape their usual lives, but I much prefer to see those who, like me, wander around in jeans and flip flops, enjoying the company of those they’re with without worrying about what others think of them. These are the people who will go home with good memories rather than bloated credit card bills, STDs and a hangover.
When people ask me about my recommendations for visiting Las Vegas, I frequently think of the afternoons I sat with Julia at The Reading Room (which is now long gone and has been replaced with a frozen yogurt shop). My advice is to embrace the eccentricity of Las Vegas but to do so in moderation and with your integrity intact. Don’t do anything about which you wouldn’t tell your significant other. If you wouldn’t post the photo on Facebook, don’t take it in the first place. Wear things you would wear in your own city.
I hope that when you leave Las Vegas, you are happy and fulfilled by your experience. But the ultimate goal is this: Don’t be singled out by Julia. That’s how I know you’re a Las Vegas imposter.
*Not her real name.
JoAnna Haugen writes the online travel guide WhyGo Las Vegas (http://www.lasvegaslogue.com) as well as her travel blog, Kaleidoscopic Wandering.
Why I like this story: Because honestly, Vegas freaks me out. And reading this makes me feel better about my reaction to Sin City.
On my first flight into Vegas, the lights from the Strip were just starting to glow at dusk. That was magical. The on-the-ground view of Vegas, with the cigarette smoke, hawkers, slot machine binging and carryout booze, was a lot less magical. I can take about 2.5 days there before I need to get out.