After staggering back through the snow in the early hours, I knew I would have to put some thawed into this review. After all it’s snow joke when you have to review a party. But then as the ArcSoc adverts stated, this was no ordinary party: ‘We are the performers, the dance floor is our stage’—they didn’t lie.

The Union was transformed, origami birds suspended mid-flight above the stairs, trapeze artists swinging from the ceiling, life models, fortune tellers, live music; the whole event was a performance of vast proportions. The attention to detail was extraordinary with ‘tickets’ of gold keys being exchanged at the door for entry. Walking through a tiger’s mouth to enter the dance floor, I felt a Narnia moment coming on, not simply from the snow (nice touch guys) but by the wonderful array of magnificently clad Cambridge folk that adorned the scene. The invite said costumes and they meant it, helpful face painters were on hand to add any glamour to those lacking costume (of which I’m glad to say there were few), or simply gild the lily on some of the more spectacular outfits wandering around. The hall became a make-shift tent with paper figures suspended from the ceiling, careful mood lighting created an atmosphere of pure cool.

Surprises lurked round every corner: the two life models posing upstairs came as quite a shock, but the drawing class proved to be a surprisingly chilled scene. As the ‘teacher’ commented, ‘It’s fun and they’re naked.’ Although the consensus was divided about the nature of this ‘entertainment’, it definitely sparked conversations to break the ice, and you had to give it to the organisers for doing something just that little bit risky, a little bit naughty. All in the name of the theme of course!

The dance floor was a sensation, even when dancing was interrupted by an impromptu invasion of actors plugging their show. Although the performance didn’t cause an avalanche of complaints, many people felt—I quote—‘abused’ at having had no warning or say in the matter before being shoved off the dance floor. What was a good intention to immerse an audience and perhaps take them by surprise instead simply annoyed. As one girl eloquently put it, ‘It killed the mood’. But if the mood was dampened briefly on the dance floor, spirits were still soaring in the upper rooms. The acoustic room was by far one of the highlights of the evening, with all the acts leaving the crowd begging for more.

A few technical hiccups received an icy reception, such as the cloakroom being full by 9:30pm (especially problematic given the number of Eskimo-esque clad party-goers), and the oddly limited toilet facilities. However none of these problems seemed to snowball. ArcSoc Cabaret was an unforgettable experience, even if it could have been mistaken for a Snow Ball. (I hope you forgive me for the excessive snow puns, it’s heavy on my mind). But in all seriousness it was magical. If you didn’t go this year, next year you should. You will not regret it—do you get my drift?