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diggImperial Swing in the Ring
By Stefene RussellPhotograph courtesy of the Missouri Historical Society Photographs and Prints Collection, Tavern Journal Collection
The Prize Ring Bar, at 3945 Olive Street, boasted a sweet gimmick: an elevated dance floor that looked like a boxing ring. Most nights, it was crammed with boozy couples—guys in saddle shoes, hair shiny with Lucky Tiger; girls in finger waves and floral dresses; maybe a liberated Rosie or two who’d worked the riveter line and had no fear of going out dancing in wide-legged trousers. But weisenheimers in porkpie hats and housedresses were a somewhat rarer sight. Judging from the style and size of his costume, our friend borrowed his dress from one of the matrons in the house band (our guess is the drummer). Whether it’s the constrictive cut of the bodice or too many gin fizzes, something’s slowing him down; he’s stuck doing the walking-through-mud shuffle as his buddy in the shiny suit boogies so fast, he levitates.
