Lemondrop

In Austria this month, waltzing is popular enough to be its own Olympic event. After all, it's ball season! And I was lucky enough to be in on the same scene Lindsay Lohan bailed on last week.

Pity for her -- she missed an otherworldly experience.

As a grad student in international relations living in Bologna, Italy, I was treated to a magical night of gowns, gloves and gallant men in bow ties.

Attending a ball in Austria over the semester break is a tradition among my classmates. This year 200 of us set out to conquer the ancient parquet floors at the United Nations International Atomic Energy Association Ball in Vienna, known around town as the U.N. Ball.

But the belle of all balls is the Opera Ball, held at the city's breathtaking opera house, and frequented by ambassadors, celebrities and politicians. This is where LiLo was a no-show on the arm of aged billionaire Richard Lugner, who has also counted Paris Hilton, Dita von Teese and Nicolette Sheridan as his former dates to the gala that rivals the Oscars in both glamour and gossip.

Before I booked my plane ticket to Vienna, I was naturally consumed with one question – what to wear?

Sure, I've been to parties and elegant receptions, but I had never attended a ball-ball, and no club-hopping little number of a dress would do for this occasion.

Ball season runs from Nov. 11 clear through Ash Wednesday and, during this period, each echelon of society boasts its own. The florists, coffee breweries, pharmacists and retirees have their balls, as do the universities. Even the chimney sweeps kick up their heels, an Austrian classmate informed me.

So the Austrian ladies in our program knew what to expect -- but the rest of us, when we weren't cramming for an econ final, were busy learning to waltz. Or shopping for dazzling jewelry and elegant gowns that had to reach over the knee.

Blissfully, I had been a bridesmaid at a friend's wedding in 2008, and my champagne strapless floor-length gown came in handy. The rest I bought: I discovered a pair of 100-year-old green-crystal Victorian earrings in Bologna, a Bronze clutch in Bratislava.

As for the strappy, crystal-encrusted gold shoes and off-white long gloves I found in Vienna, no fairy godmother could have done better.

Unsure of what to expect, I also splurged on a hair stylist.

"Ball season -- this is my favorite time of the year," mused my stylist as he rolled my golden locks into graceful curls and swooped them into a partial up-do.

At our ball, after the grand opening ceremony, a string of teenage debutantes outfitted in pristine white gowns filled the main dance room like something out of "Swan Lake." They were ushered into society by dandies in tuxedos doing a head-spinning waltz to Strauss. Once the sea of white dresses parted, a rainbow assortment of gowns filled the floor.

That was before the crowd was led in post-midnight Quadrille, and about two hours before a midnight surprise: a tribute to Madonna and a live performance by the Village People.

By then, I was no longer bowled over, but I was ready to fall over: I had also discovered the latin dance, hip-hop, swing and reggae/Caribbean dancing rooms. By the time the clock struck midnight at Vienna's majestic Habsburg Palace, I still had both my crystal-encrusted shoes on, but oh, how I wished to lose at least one slipper.

I wasn't hoping for a prince, just a break for my poor, danced-out feet -- the bane of the modern-day ball.

Veronika Belenkaya is a former newspaper reporter, current master's in international relations candidate at Johns Hopkins University and forever a fan of any occasion that requires new accessories.

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