Party Attire

Weeks ago, Dan and I received an invitation in the mail requesting our attendance at a function, gala if you will, at Natalie's school. At the bottom of the invite, which was for an evening cocktail party, it said, "Party Attire." We RSVPed yes and immediately I started asking people, "What do you think 'party attire' means? Need I remind you that I find showering overrated and wear a staple wardrobe of black leggings, sports bras, and sneakers? I don't think I do, I have beaten that horse many times. But, just in case...I don't really do party attire.

So I asked people who attended the function last year and didn't really glean too much information. What is came down to was some people were really dressed up and some people weren't. Those were vague guideline for me to work with. This led me to hem and haw and stare at the lack of party clothes in my closet. I asked my neighbor if she had anything, but she is at least two sizes smaller than me and so many inches, so borrowing something from her was really a shot in the dark. However, she kindly let me take four dresses to try on, but nothing that I felt was what I was really looking for. I wanted to look like I was going to a party, but I still wanted to be the me I have become. And so, I went shopping.

Now, I hate shopping for clothing about as much as I hate packing, but it needed to be done. Much to my dismay not only were most of the things I found flat out ugly, it would seem that in my hiatus from buying proper clothes, the current style is straight cut and pencil skirts. There is nothing about me that is straight or pencil shaped. Even if I lost fifty pounds, not only would I be severely unhealthy, but I would still be curvy. I picked a few pieces really just for the sake of trying on since I had managed to get out of the house and to the mall with no little humans along for the ride. Wouldn't you know, that just as I was getting ready to head into the fitting room, my neighbor sent me a message about a dress in Ann Taylor and she was there at that moment. Shopping without children and with another female - WHAT? I returned my pieces to their fixture homes and headed to the next store.

What she had found was a black cocktail dress, and it really wasn't what I was looking for. I did, however, find a great fitting pair of black dress pants and a shiny, flowy, red top. I am neither shiny nor flowy, but the top said party and it was comfy. Through the dressing room wall, my neighbor was not convinced, but once she saw it, she assured me that it was indeed "party attire."

Fast forward to last night - or rewind if you will - and as I was prepping my perfect party attire I burnt a hole in my brand new shiny red top. That's right - melted it right under my iron. Fortunately, the iron is in the basement and I was all alone, because some choice expletives that rarely escape my mouth came flowing like a river. BRAND NEW! THE TAGS ARE STILL ON IT! ARGH! You can imagine that I am not a person to have a back up party shirt, seeing how I had to go out and specifically purchase something in the first place. Lucky for me, I had acquired some clothing this summer from a friend who has a whole closet full of "party attire." It would have to do. I wore an out of black, which I found very comforting, did some crazy thing with hair gel, painted on some red lips, put on some sparkly, dangling earrings, and headed out the door.

I photo of this would have been nice. But Dan will tell you, I was doing that thing that women (me and his mother) do when we have to be somewhere and things aren't really going along with the plan in our head - his words were, "crazy and I don't like it." So you will just have to imagine how partyish I looked.

And let me tell you, there was a man in a rugby shirt and a woman in a full length ball gown at the affair. So if you receive an invitation that says party attire it means that some people get dressed up and some people don't. But overall, it probably would have been slightly less stressful to just stay home in some black leggings and sneakers.