Warwick didn’t win friends by showing up at the Purple Ball. Photograph by Kate Nerenberg

»128: Number of balls, galas, and receptions that The Washingtonian tracked during inaugural weekend.

»Worst consolation gift: For the thousands of inaugural ticket holders who didn’t make it through security gates or got trapped in the Purple Tunnel of Doom, as one Facebook group labeled it, the congressional inaugural committee offered copies of the swearing-in invitation and program plus photos of the President and Vice President.

»1,544,721: Number of trips taken on Metrorail, Metrobus, and MetroAccess on January 20—the biggest day in Metro’s history. It beat the previous high, 866,681, set on January 19.

»Saddest job: Staff at the Marriott Wardman Park had to stand outside the hotel on inauguration night and tell arriving black-tie guests that Dionne Warwick’s American Music Inaugural Ball had been canceled due to unimpressive ticket sales. Meanwhile Warwick was across town at the star-studded Purple Ball.

»86: Degrees in the kitchen of the Marriott Wardman Park as staffers plated the 1,250 meals required for the Kentucky Ball. The heat is one reason that, under their union contract, chefs are allowed three beers a day.

January 20 was a memorable night for the 3,500 campaign volunteers and supporters who made it inside the Hilton Washington’s ballroom for the official Youth Inaugural Ball. They were mere feet away from the newly inaugurated President of the United States, who personally thanked the roomful of twentysomethings for believing in his campaign and delivering him to the White House.

>> See our original coverage of the ball here

But not everyone had the same experience.

Kimberly Misher arrived at the Hilton at 7:30, just 30 minutes after the doors opened. The ball didn’t even begin until 9 and the line was already around the block, but Misher had hope—it was moving fast. A few days earlier, she had bought a ball ticket off Craigslist for $400—more than five times the original $75. It was expensive, but she wanted to be a part of history. After navigating through a maze of tents, passing the security check, and checking her coat, she was finally in. Or so she thought.

“A police officer called it a holding area,” says Misher. “That’s how I learned that we were just in the antechamber. The main ballroom was across the hall.” There was one door leading to the main ballroom, and people were lined up 100 people across and 100 people deep, she says. “There was a lot of pushing, and it was hot.”

When the door finally opened, she ran smack into another line—at the entrance to the ballroom. Earlier in the day, Misher had been denied access to the inaugural parade. She had a ticket but was told to go to the wrong gate and wound up at the end of an insurmountable line. But again, she had hope.

What happens when you mix Hollywood, Washington, and Silicon Valley? You end up with something approximating the incredibly strange scenes at Tuesday night’s Google inaugural ball. It included scenes such as Google CEO Eric Schmidt jostling for space in the VIP corner with senator John Kerry and actor brothers Ben and Casey Affleck. You get half the crowd nudging one another about spotting Craig Newmark of Craigslist and the other half whispering about spotting newly minted and controversial Illinois junior senator Roland Burriss. And don’t forget actress Glenn Close hanging out in the game room—probably the only time that an event at the swanky and regal Mellon Auditorium on Constitution Avenue has ever seen a game room.

The real way to tell that you were at an inaugural ball was the lengthy line for the coat check that made senator Chuck Schumer guffaw when asked if he wanted to wait and check his coat.

Throughout much of the year, black tie in Washington is a burden—generally some sort of work event you have to attend at the end of a long weekday to hobnob with clients, sources, or vendors in uncomfortable formalwear that they slipped on in the office bathroom before hopping into a cab.

The inauguration is the one clear exception—and for the crowd at the Lincoln 2.0 Inaugural Ball, it was the night of a lifetime. Held in the stunning courtyard of the National Portrait Gallery and Smithsonian American Art Museum, the ball—sponsored by the tourism group Destination DC—paid homage to the second inaugural ball of Abraham Lincoln, held in the same building in March 1865. The women who had their hair done and the men who donned tuxes for the first time since a wedding lent an air of a grownup prom to the event rather than a typically suffocating Washington black-tie gala.

What: The Hawaii State Society Inaugural Ball.

Where: The Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

When: Tuesday, January 20, 7 PM to 1 AM.

Ticket price: $200.

Who: Folks from the lovely state of Hawaii (including several of President Obama’s former high school classmates) and just about anybody who purchased a ticket before they sold out right after Obama’s win. General Eric Shinseki was slated to attend as well, though we didn’t catch sight of him. Some folks hoped that the President himself would show up, but as the ball wasn’t designated as one of the 10 official ones, expectations waned by the time the ball got warmed up.

No matter who you are, inaugural galas mean dressing to the nines—but a cursory glance around the Commander-in-Chief’s Ball Tuesday night showed that military women play by different rules of engagement. Here’s a look at what “dress to impress” means to our nation’s troops and how servicewomen add a dose of femininity and style to their ensembles, along with a few words from President Barack Obama and Vice President Joe Biden.

What: The Commander-in-Chief’s Ball, hosted by President Barack Obama, First Lady Michelle Obama, Vice President Joe Biden, and Dr. Jill Biden.

Where: The National Building Museum.

When: Tuesday, January 20, 2009.

Tickets: Guest list only. Tickets were provided free of charge to 2,000 invited guests.

Who: Active-duty and reserve military and their families, 300 wounded warriors from Walter Reed Army Medical Center, families of fallen soldiers, spouses of deployed military. Translation: A sea of navy, white, and black-clad attendees, punctuated by tuxes and jewel-toned ball gowns.

What: Inauguration Day “Watch Party.”

Where: The Newseum, at Pennsylvania Avenue and Sixth Street, Northwest.

When: Tuesday, January 20.

Who: People lucky enough to have snagged one of the 5,000 regular-admission tickets into the museum—the $20 tickets sold out in one day last fall. (Some were later resold on Craiglist for $100 apiece.) People who didn’t have tickets lined up outside, and some were let in as ticketholders left.

Why it was a hot ticket: With its jumbo high-definition TV screens—one video wall is 90 feet long, another 40-by-22-foot screen is one of the largest indoor HD screens in the country—and its walls of glass overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue, the museum was a prime spot to watch both the swearing-in and the parade while staying warm. The museum crowd, who could see the Capitol and the Mall in the distance from the windows, included many parents with young children. “We thought it was our best shot to bring a baby down all day without being outside,” said Alexandria resident Mariane Garbaliauskas, who, with her husband, brought their seven-month-old son, Mateus. Mariane is originally from Brazil, her husband from Canada. “He’s the only American in the family,” Garbaliauskas said, gesturing to her son, “and we wanted to be involved in history.”