Probably no one could understand how I shat my waist-highs when I got the chance to see these bad girls in concert in the flesh in the fashion and the lights like oh my goodness. Mkay.

The thing was, even though I was all hooked up with my guest list ticket like the freshest g, I had let Friday night just sneak up on me out of nowhere and the only friend who said she’d make the show with me (a fellow hardcore Diamond) was bailing by mid-afternoon. Her family made her attend the ceremony of her father receiving a Greek Award. Go on then, claps for my buddy’s dad.

I had spent the afternoon killing time getting blonder at salon Olab on St Denis but the three lattes I had in four hours didn’t do much to get me amped back up about going to this show solo. I decided I’d have to try and enjoy this concert not as a whooing fan girl but as a critical journalist or something. But grown up shit like that requires alcohol.

Down behind Foufs and Metropolis on Ste Cats east, there are a few little lanes lined with benches and sheltered by trees and enclosed with pretty manicured condo facades. Apparently a girl can’t drink her grapefruit and ginseng poppers even discreetly without offending such an oasis.

Before I had even reached the door, I stumbled into a cluster of kids I know through friends of friends or had gone to some day camp or another with and I didn’t feel so solitary. Nothing like already boozed up babes screaming in your face how pretty they think you are to get your poppers kicking in.

It was so freaking lovely to see that nearly everyone at this concert had heeded Rule #3 of Heartbreaker, and drawn their little black hearts on their cheeks (but never on your sleeve/unless you want a taste of defeat). I thought I had come up with the most original idea, but at concerts like this camaraderie trumps originality.

Before I could spend a million dollars on all the t-shirts for sale – and more punctually than I ever expect of pop stars – Charli XCX took over the stage. She gave a cent pourcent performance of I Love It which she wrote for Icona Pop. She wore a tiny black top with a big sexy red plaid skirt. My favourite part of live shows like this is getting to see these queens of Vevo videos actually dancing, all by themselves under groovy light beams while everybody screams. It humanizes while still idolizing them and it feels raw and awesome.

Just makes me want a 30-day free trial of being a rock star.

There was a juicy enough break between Ms XCX’s opening and the-moment-you’ve-all-been-waiting-for to pop outside for air. I was still answering frantic text messages from my home girl, and I had to tell my little sister I was partying with all her Royal Vale peeps (my epitaph will read “OMG you’re Edel’s sister!!”)

And then she descended. Marina was wearing the outfit she’s opened every show on this tour in, which is a pink bustier with an ironically long pencil skirt. The black piping brings the outfit to the clash of a cheerleader’s uniform with your sexy secretary’s classic Chanel suit. Very Primadonna Girl.

Marina’s fans are all sweethearts who won’t crucify you for shoving your way to the front. Our photographer Johnny had muscled his way to the front row before Metropolis po-po told him that he wasn’t allowed to take photos (*all photos in this MtlBlog.co article were acquired through punk-ass means). Somehow the same didn’t apply to everyone whipping out their iPhones.

Watching Marina dance was just surreal. She sang with much more technique and melody than can even be heard on her tracks, letting a pure gold strand of a vibrato out into Metropolis. She changed her outfit twice, letting the bass drop and rise before twirling back on stage in a beauty pageant banner that read Miss Shellfish Beach, a sexy house coat etc. It was an adorable game of dress up. For every epic anthem she belted out, there was another ballad she played herself on piano or had almost acoustic accompaniment. She even through raver beach balls out into the crowds. It’s elements like this that make a show intimate and give fans what they really come for; a chance to sing along with their Teen Idle, this woman whose music got them through growing out of insecure solitude into their now-fabulous skin.  Or maybe that’s just me?

While the place was full of teeny-boppers it was also full of love and fun and good vibes (and more men than I would have thought), and AWESOME OUTFITS!

Seriously gorgeous duds. I myself wore my AA red velvet bustier, a navy skirt with sparkly roses, a string of pearls and flats. The only element I regret were the  flats; platforms mean a better view from the floor!

Check out the full gallery of photos by Johnny Martin HERE!

Send me what you wore to the concert or create your own Electra Heart inspired outfit! I’ll be sharing my favorites on Tumblr!

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