There are two kinds of people at the end of the year: those who win quietly, and those who turn the Losers of the Year ballot into a glittering rave for every shiny failure in sight.

This event promises a polite purge of the year’s flops

—crypto crashes, meme meltdowns, that one guy who live-streamed his own cancellation. But invitees show up ready to celebrate the suck: disco balls instead of dunce caps, a playlist blending “Gloria” with “Gold Digger.” What starts as “name the year’s nadirs” morphs into a parade of perpetual glitterbugs—fat, fabulous, and fully committed to the bit.

Hundreds stream the vibe: ex-hypebeasts popping bottles with busted prophets, all moonwalking through misfortune. No official loser crowned—just endless loops of losers loving losers, proving the real award is showing up sparkly when life hands you lumps. Funniest comeback of the year? Hands down, the party itself.