They circle to a hypnotic beat. They are both conventionally pretty, and not; young, and not; thin, and not at all. There are bad haircuts and dye jobs and muffin tops and, often, a hot-mess sex appeal. Sometimes they are suburban moms, and sometimes they are festive lesbians. (One group calls itself “SubaruShack.”) Occasionally, they’re men. Or Legos. Or ducks.
The common denominator? They don’t care what you think and are having a great time. Almost invariably, we wish we could join them.
