The only item I didn't do was braces and I'm glad of that. First, you wouldn't have seen them under my blazer anyway and, second, I saw so many males suffering from what I shall tastefully refer to as the upward pull of braces.
Two kids I saw had obviously suffered the "wedgie" for long enough and had chosen to spend the rest of the evening with the braces flopped down to each side, hanging limply like useless appendages while their belts did the work.
In fact I saw a number of males who clearly did not trust braces anyway and wore belts too!
It's not that inconvenience was only a male preserve. The streets were littered with the feathers that had fallen from many a boa. Many women must have arrived home with a threadbare piece of string around their shoulders.
I was tempted to gather the pieces and spend the next year putting together new, multi-coloured boas for the 2013 event. Could be a good little earner.
I also heard a number of women bemoaning the inconvenience of gloves, chief complaint of which was that they snagged on things as you passed: tables, chairs, handbags, cigarette holders, vintage Cadillacs.
But for guaranteed snagging, it was hard to go past SEQUINNED gloves, handbags or wraps.
All those tiny little reflective dangles were guaranteed to wrap themselves around any projecting item.
A real issue for women trying to be authentic was that in the 1930s there were strict rules - yes, rules - about what you wore at particular times of day or at particular events. Etiquette books prescribed (rather than described) appropriate dress for business, travel, church, shopping, tea, garden party, dinner, theatre, opera or ball.
One online guide I saw scoffed at women who wore art deco clothes and then carried a water bottle and cellphone. Acceptable carried items include a clutch bag or a parasol.
But, to many, just having fun was more important than being authentic, so juggling a cigarette holder, a gin sling and a cellphone was just one of the fun challenges.
Footwear was clearly an issue for many.
Not that deco footwear was necessarily uncomfortable but many people were obviously just coming off a summer holiday of bare feet and jandals, so having their feet restricted was proving to be a bit of a burden. Some just carried their shoes.
One bloke had a better idea.
He wore shorts held up by the token pair of braces but for pedal comfort he wore jandals. Authentic, no, comfy, yes.
Some partygoers - for it is indeed a giant street party - don't know or don't care that it is all about the 1930s.
To many it is simply a time to dress up.
This might explain the shadowy figure of a medieval monk in an ankle-length black gown and a hood.
He was mouthing what might have been Latin incantations but were more likely endearments to his girlfriend via the hands-free phone concealed beneath his cassock.
So, to deco devotees all around the country (and indeed the world), plan now for the 2013 celebration.
Build your wardrobe bit by bit and, next February, the party-goers will be singing to you one of the favourite songs of the 30s: "You must have been a beautiful baby 'cos baby look at you now ..."
And the blokes can play the bass line by twanging their braces.
