The atmosphere was festive even as we rode the N towards downtown, the usual Saturday MUNI crowd of metal-lyric quoting beach residents and squirmy tweens replaced by Dom-toting fashion plates. The balmy weather made peoplewatching a pleasure, with the beautiful people out in full force. We were pleasantly surprised at the relative diversity of race and age of the party-goers assembling for the festivities.

Equal parts prom, bacchanal, and summer camp, the Black and White Ball took over the ordinarily sketchy Civic Center area and replaced the shopping carts of the undomiciled with pavilions fit for latter-era Rome. When we first arrived we wondered what we'd do to kill the time, and the next thing we knew it was 1:30 a.m. and we were begging our S.O. to retrieve the SFist senior editorial staff (one of whom had split his pants, the other of whom had managed to lose a shoe).

We had an unbelievably great time, met a ton of folks, and ran into friends old and new. We awoke Sunday in the spirit of oneness with the rest of the city, secure in the knowledge that at least 9,999 other folks felt as crappy as we did.

Expand for photos of the stylish revellers! Recognize yourself? Let us know over on Flickr! And we can totally arrange to get you hi-res versions for posterity.

All photos by Jackson West.