Towering above the ranks of about 100 hipsters assembled at Center City's Love Park Saturday, one woman delivered a call to battle.
"Pillows ready!" she cried, following the command with a toot of her trumpet. "Charge!"
A flurry of pillows -- along with the occasional stuffed animal -- flew for the next 30 minutes in Philadelphia's first flash-mob pillow fight.
"I got hit in the head a few more times than I would have liked," College freshman Phil Saynisch said. "But I had a great time."
Spontaneous pillow fights, like the one held on Saturday, are a popular form of flash-mobbing, an Internet-age phenomenon in which a group of people assemble spontaneously in public and perform an unusual scripted activity before dispersing.
Pillow fights have also been staged in London, New York City and Toronto.
Flash mobs are mostly advertised online and through word of mouth. There is often no active leadership, with participants receiving instructions beforehand.
Saynisch, like most attendees, received word of the fight on an Internet message board. He then created a Facebook event notification about the fight and mailed it to his buddy list.
"I think part of it is, people are curious to see what they can do, sort of an informal social-psychology setting," Saynisch said.
He added that flash mobs are interesting because they indicate whether individuals can coordinate an event without central leadership.
If Saturday's pillow fight is any indication, such organizing can be successful.
"It was just pure awesome," said participant Temma Hankin, who rode on a friend's back to gain the high ground during the fight.
At 6 feet 7 and a half inches tall, participant Christopher Thomas said his great height made him an inviting target as well as working to his advantage.
"It certainly gave me a lot of momentum in my swings, but also I was targeted several different times," Thomas said.
He added, "I've got a tingly head-ache right now, but it could be from all the love and excitement."
The pillow fight lasted about 30 minutes, with a brief armistice called while participants used their pillows for their intended purpose, lying down for a group nap.
"I think the nap helped rejuvenate everything, or else we all might have gotten hurt," another participant said.
Others in the area came to see the fight but chose not to participate.
Observer Candice Jones said she preferred the sidelines because of prior bad experience with pillow-fighting.
"I just have poor memories as a child of saying 'Oh, pillow fights, they're so much fun,' and then someone gets hit in the face, and then someone's upset, and I think pillow fights are mean," Jones said.
But those involved reveled in the opportunity to resurrect a childhood tradition -- and to clobber a few strangers in public.
"Philadelphia needs more fun, rowdy excitement," said April O'Neil, who sounded the trumpet to open the fight. "So they need more organized -- well, unorganized -- fun activities going on."
O'Neil insisted, however, that she was not responsible for planning the event.
"I can't quite say how I ended up blowing that trumpet there, but we'll say it was just an unorganized coincidence that I did that," she said.
