Glamoured, Not Hammered: A Sober 50th Birthday Girls’ Trip

Thirty-odd years after the mall kiosk broke my heart, I finally got my Glamour Shots. I just needed a 50th birthday, an Airbnb, a costume closet, and a handful of sober women who were willing to put on a feather boa before coffee.

A Dream Deferred

Let me set the scene. It’s the early ’90s. The mall has everything a girl could want: an Orange Julius, a Claire’s, Hot Dog on a Stick, and a brand-new Glamour Shots studio where regular women walked in and walked out looking like a soap opera vixen with a wind machine budget.

I wanted it so badly my teeth hurt. The teased hair. The sequined jacket slipping off one shoulder. The soft-focus haze that made everyone look like they’d been photographed through a stick of butter.

Two problems. One, I was a little too young, and some of those photos were a little too sexy. Two, there was absolutely no universe in which my mother was handing over her credit card for that.

So the dream went where all good Gen X dreams go: into a box in the back of my brain, right next to my Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper and my plan to marry Jordan Knight.

Fast-forward a few decades. I’m sober, I’m turning 50, and I have a costume closet. (Yes, a whole closet. We’ll get there.) And I realized something: nobody was going to stop me now. Least of all my mother.

Turns Out, I Wasn’t the Only One

Here’s the part that surprised me. When I pitched the idea to my besties one by one, I was braced for some serious arm-twisting. I had my speech ready: It’s just for fun! It’s a childhood dream! Nobody has to look sexy!

I never got to give the speech. Every single one of them jumped at it immediately. Before I could even get the words out.

Apparently, I was not the only woman walking around with an unfulfilled Glamour Shots-shaped hole in her heart. Who knew? So I did what any reasonable person would do with a milestone birthday and a group of enthusiastic yeses: I booked an Airbnb in La Jolla, CA, invited my sober besties and my sober-ally besties, and called it a birthday workcation. Whatever anyone needed to call it in order to give oneself permission to attend.

No real agenda. No real rules. Just four days of grown women playing dress-up and doing their own thing, separately and together.

Glamoured, Not Hammered: Prep Work

A proper glamour session does not just happen. It takes a woman with a costume closet and a vision.

I raided mine for anything a person might need to build a look they felt comfortable in:

• Corsets and feather boas
• Billowy, dramatic fabrics
• Wigs. So many wigs.
• Mrs. Roper muumuus (if you know, you know)
• Face gems, glitter, headbands, and random props

Everything got organized into over-the-door shoe holders so it was all easy to grab. And then, because we are artists, we decided it was absolutely necessary to lay every wig out across the Airbnb’s wall of décor. For the rest of the trip, this impromptu installation was lovingly known as the Wig Wall.

The Wig Wall became the heartbeat of the house. One night we did some crafting, and it turned out crafting simply could not be accomplished without a wig or accessory. It was an unspoken rule: if you felt like you needed a wig or a sparkly accessory to fancy-up your sweat pants, you put one on. Nobody questioned it.

I personally became deeply attached to a pair of Elvis Presley sunglasses, which I wore religiously every single time we stepped outdoors. Thank you, thank you very much. (Insert lip curl here).

The Session

We each did a couple of looks. Then some of us paired up, because a Hugh Hefner is nothing without her Playboy Bunny.

Sidebar: I want to highlight something. This was done one hundred percent for fun. The women I brought were chosen by design. Most of these ladies didn’t know each other, or had only “met” on social media, but all are people who do not take themselves too seriously. The criteria was simple: I chose besties who I knew would be supportive, encouraging, and brave. Besties who would happily try on every accessory, laugh at each other, take pictures of each other, and then jump in to help each other look their absolute best. I said it on day one and I meant it: nobody would be forced to wear anything they didn’t want to wear or do anything they didn’t want to do.

What we got was four days of adults playing dress-up, and honestly? I get it now. I understand why drag queens love building a persona and performing. There is something wildly freeing about putting on a wig and becoming somebody else for an afternoon, especially when you’ve spent a lot of years learning how to be fully, soberly yourself.

How to Plan a Sober Girls’ Trip That Doesn’t Implode

I’ve been on a lot of group trips. This is the first one I’ve ever seen work this easily, and I’ll be honest, even I was dumbfounded. Not because I expected drama, but because I wanted zero chance of it, so I tried to head it off before we left the driveway. Here’s what worked:

Group communication. A couple of weeks before we departed, I made a group text thread. (I know, I know. We all hate the group text. But you’ll need it when you get there. Trust the process, Brenda) and I named the conversation. I also made a group album on my iPhone and invited everyone to join. That way we could share inspo photos and trip pics easily. (But that’s where my tech advice ends. Someone in the group has an Android? I can’t help you.) But just figure out something similar.

Set the money rules before anyone packs a bag. Casually, I laid out what I was covering and what everyone was responsible for themselves in a group text before we left. Nobody had to wonder, and nobody had to have an awkward conversation at the register.

Assign the sleeping arrangements ahead of time. Look, we’re not eighteen on a Vegas trip. We’re not going to pile into a single room at the Circus Circus, like ten ladies deep. Nobody wants to share a bed with a stranger, even if you’re getting along beautifully. Communicate and make decisions like a grown-up before anyone walks through the door.

Do a group grocery delivery order in the car enroute to the accomodation. Or stop at a grocery store and give everyone a chance to grab snacks and drinks. Personally, I passed my phone around on the drive from the airport and we built the grocery list together. (If your group is less easygoing, has strict dietary needs, or doesn’t know each other well, separate orders or stopping IRL might be smoother. So read the room and let everyone handle their own snacks and food order if necessary. Know your people).

Be flexible. I made a dinner reservation for each night, in case we felt like getting dressed up and going out. Every night we ended up cancelling it. We had such a beautiful view, there was really no point in going out, we figured, unless we were already out at dinnertime. So we mostly ordered a lot of food delivery and snuggled into pajamas early. It was dreamy.

Let it come out in the wash. At the drive-through, somebody just tossed their card at the driver. We never kept a ledger. It all evened out, and to my knowledge, nobody felt nickel-and-dimed. (They even bought me dinner one night, because the trip was sort of my birthday. I accepted graciously, by which I mean I wore the Elvis glasses.)

Pick a designated driver. Not because anyone was drinking, but because somebody genuinely enjoys (and prefers) doing the driving. Everyone else took turns navigating, because that’s the annoying part: Who has the address pulled up on maps? Whose phone has battery? Does anybody have a charger? Or, take turns driving if no one feels particularly compelled to drive. Do what works for your group.

Make everything optional. A walking group of two formed organically the first morning, open to anyone who felt like it. By day four, everyone had joined the walking group. Some of us went to a recovery meeting one night while the sober allies (who of course were invited) had a quiet evening to themselves. Hot tub when you want to. Quiet moments staring at the ocean on the back deck when you want to. Go to bed when you want to. Roll out of bed when you want to, or sleep in. Work or take calls when you need to. No judgement.

Share the small stuff and checking in. Create and maintain a safe space to talk if anyone needs to. In our particular group, everyone in that house was pretty dang healed and nobody was dragging their stuff into the group. But the door was open if anyone needed to share or process big feelings. But just a thought from me if your group turns out differently: sharing basic cleanup tasks, or saying “Go do your thing, I’ll load the dishwasher this time” could go a long way. Or if someone is particularly quiet, the occasional “Hey, are you doing okay?” speaks volumes. You’re not in control of someone else’s emotions, but maybe just let them know they are seen and loved. Then carry on.

Why This Matters for Sober Women

Here’s the thing I keep coming back to.

So much of what’s marketed to women in recovery is journaling, chakra alignment, and deep thoughts. And there’s room for all of that, too. Want to go get a massage? Great, someone will drive you. Making coffee? Fantastic, would you mind pouring me one too?

But what I needed, and what I think a lot of us need, was permission to be goofy. To be kid-like. To let our guard all the way down and be supportive of each other being ridiculous. To build a Wig Wall and defend it with our lives.

We gravitated naturally toward easy, breezy, cover girl, casual fun. A spirit of simple, drama-free good times and not taking ourselves too seriously was so good for my soul. The relief of that was enormous. I came home rested. Actually rested. For a sober mom of eight who runs a large household, that’s not a small thing.

The Takeaway

I can’t think of a better way to spend a 50th birthday than with women I came home loving and respecting in a whole new way.

I got the Glamour Shots. Decades late, slightly less soft-focus, and with a group of sober women cheering me on from behind the camera instead of a bored teenager at a mall kiosk.

Mom, if you’re reading this: FYI, I paid for them myself.

Thinking about planning your own “Glamoured, Not Hammered” session, or even weekend? Raid the Halloween clearance aisle, book a house with a hot tub and a lot of wall space, and bring the people who will laugh with you, not at you. Then tag us. We want to see the wigs.

Check out our IG Reels here:

• Glamoured Not Hammered Travel Day
• Glamoured Not Hammered Behind the Scenes
• Glamoured Not Hammered Results + Wig Wall
• Glamoured Not Hammered DIY Craft Night
• Glamoured Not Hammered 90s Sitcom Intro

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