Dressing up: Joining the fun

For several years, a reader, C., has sent a review of the formal party she and her husband host every holiday season, including pictures. Far in advance, she mails invitations that specify a warm-climate version of evening attire: dinner jacket or at least suit and tie for men, and evening wear for women. C. is always stunning, often in a black dress; her husband wears his kilt.

This is their big annual party, and certain guests—the men in the mix—ignore the requestt. She's sent shots of a man in a Hawaiian shirt, someone who looked like he just washed his car, and another in shorts, amid fellas who know how put on a tie.

This year, a couple accepted, but only the man showed up, explaining that his wife was not attending because she "does not want to dress up." C. replied that, upon accepting the invitation, his wife knew the sort of party it would be, and she would have appreciated her regrets before the day.

"Oh", he replied, "she didn't know then that she wouldn't want to dress up."   

Good manners seem to have vanished like ladies' lounge attendants, relegated to period dramas. I wondered if it's me: am I out of touch with the times? As a test, I told the anecdote to my Gen X hairstylist.

He was indignant. "What!", he said, "You never bail the night of a party like that unless you have to call an ambulance!" He recalled his and a friends' joint 40th birthday tea last summer; the dress code was "tea party dress; extra points for hats and boas!" and showed me guests of all genders (or undeclared) and ages in top hats, flouncy gowns and wild fascinators; kids in costumes.

Aha, I thought, so it's not strictly generational. Had Ms. Evening Avoidant had decided to take the leap, perhaps she could use some ideas.

Party tricks

An amusing way to pick a dressy party outfit: pretend you are standing next to Ryan Gosling in his custom-made Gucci suit, and not to pass a tray of canapés. Even if the age of his mom, as I am, it's a fast track to selecting party wear that yields better than a "you look nice" compliment, one of the all-time dismal remarks.

Ry brings the Kenergy

Now, where was I?  The Gos is not wearing a classic dinner suit with its bib-front shirt and cummerbund; like him, let's cut loose a little! He is not wearing a suit he would wear by day, and that's a simple criterion for formal eveningwear.

Some ideas:   

1. Animal-print suit in a satiny poly from Zara. Sale price (limited sizes) is about $70 for the two pieces. (I break my Never Buy Fast Fashion Rule for party wear, unless you dress up often.) 

2. Or, just the tuxedo jacket, like this Italian wool from J. Crew, with trousers or a skirt. Also comes in a rich carmine, for colour-lovers. A bigger investment at about $US 400 (sale price) but a chic piece that can serve for years.

3. A dress! Because she had lead time, she could have checked out secondhand sellers. But I would still buy good quality, because cheap evening dresses look it. I spent a few minutes on The RealReal and lost my heart to a Suzannah striped midi that has it all: easy to wear, with after-sundown appropriate metallic threads. The price was $135.

4. A knockout top, especially good for seated dinners. Again, look at secondhand. This is an unworn Margiela top (one size fits all) that would be ideal for such a party, and the price at Vestiare is about $CDN 100 plus shipping. 

We don't know her circumstances; perhaps there is another, more sensitive reason and the attire-refusal was just what she wanted to say. I'm trying to be fair; however, guess who is off the guest list next year?

C. said the party was delightful, and the women friends clustered around her with evident affection looked like they were having a splendid time in their LBDs, a gold brocade top and a shocking pink maxi dress. 

I think occasionally dressing up is fun, do you?