{shortcode-30db98ae7a976ab427f64d9d36bf6b9e336f4303}It’s reading period again. There’s spikeball on the MAC Quad. Sundresses are back in action. Flowers are blooming, and CVS is running out of Zyrtec. As our class schedules free up, our social calendars fill fast, but let’s be honest: there’s only one event that really matters right now.

Fête.

Eliot’s famous spring formal — where chocolate-dipped strawberries, dramatic ice sculptures, and fairy lights have us all thinking, “Yes, this is what going to Harvard is supposed to feel like.” If, like me, you’re one of the lucky few in Eliot, your calendar has been marked for months. If not, you’ve probably been scheming since last spring to secure a coveted plus one… and now it’s four days out, and you still don’t have a ticket.

The good news? Flyby, as always, is here to help. Here are ten methods you can try to win yourself a spot at this *elite* black-tie affair.

1. Write a handwritten letter to an Eliot resident.

In an age of DMs and GCal invites, a heartfelt note on real paper goes a long way. Seal it with a mastodon (NOT an elephant) sticker. Maybe draw a little cartoon of you standing under Eliot Bell Tower and looking hopeful. People might not give in to texts, but they will give in to whimsy.

2. Pretend you’re lost... like, really lost.

Wander into Eliot breezeway in full formalwear mumbling, “Is this... the SOCH?” If anyone asks why you’re in heels and holding a bouquet, just say you’re looking for your club’s comp celebration. Note: This might be easier to pull off if you’re a freshman.

3. Turn to the Black Market.

Back in my freshman year, tickets were going for $300+, in the first rendition of Fête post-Covid. This year, word on the street says supply meets demand at an equilibrium price of $115 — or the entirety of your yearly BoardPlus.

4. Become a rebound.

We all know at least one Eliot senior who just went through a long-distance-on-the-horizon-induced breakup. They’ve already maxed out their Claude 3.7 Sonnet Credits until 2 a.m. and now need real-life emotional processing. Offer to be their grounded, hot friend who shows up in style to “make the ex jealous.” Bonus points if you coordinate outfits.

5. Say you’re with the band.

Show up around 8 p.m. carrying speakers (rented from Cabot Science Library), muttering, “I’m with Soul City.” Wear over-the-ear headphones and a slightly stressed expression. Say you “do tech.” No one knows what that means, but it sounds official.

6. Begin the Interhouse Transfer process (just in case).

Technically, you can’t transfer Houses this late in the game. But if you casually email the House Administrator asking about “long-term residency options,” who’s to stop you? Start eating in Eliot regularly, say things like “I’ve always felt at home here,” and loudly mourn the two-year renovation delay. If anyone asks, just say you’re living in a Fairfax double next year.

7. Start dating someone in Eliot… temporarily.

First, set your Hinge radius to 0.02 miles and park yourself in Eliot dining hall. Then, make a profile with the classic “Looking for someone who… helps me delete this app,” and watch the roses roll in. Finally, go on a Berryline date Saturday night, casually mention you’re free Tuesday after 9 p.m., and voila — an invite. By Wednesday, ghost or say, “You deserve someone better.” And, honestly? That’s still more closure than most matches get.

8. Act like the ice sculptor.

Start carrying around a chisel and casually referencing “my piece for Tuesday night.” Say things like, “I’ve been exploring subtractive forms in the context of edible centerpieces.” No one will ask follow-ups if you sound serious enough.

9. Just ask.

Sometimes, the boldest move is the simplest. Stand on a table in Eliot dhall and announce your availability. Go door-to-door sticking Post-its with “Fête?” and your number. Yell “Anyone need a plus-one?” into the courtyard void. You never know until you try.

10. Shoot me a text.

As a proud Eliot resident and member of the decorations committee, I have not one, but two coveted plus one’s. I’ve technically already given them out… but I could be convinced otherwise. Bonus points if you take me out to dinner beforehand, offer to help pay for my dress, massage my feet after a night of dancing, and take 10,000 photos of me from slightly above eye level — uploaded promptly to our “FÊTE 2025” shared album. And yes, I will ask, “Wait, can we do one more but this time candid?”

This is the last Fête in old Eliot before two years of renovation. So, no pressure, but if you’re going to scheme, now’s the time.

See you on the dance floor — if you make it in.