A Guide to Quality, Taste and Style (20 page)

The Blind Spot:
From teen warblers to tennis players, to star of French cinema Alain Delon, it seems that everybody has a perfume with their name on it. So how can a fragrance survive in such a crowded marketplace? The same way breakfast cereals and snow shoes are sold: through marketing! Often our first point of contact with a fragrance is through an ad. We see a photo in a magazine or read the glowing advance press and become convinced that this is the scent for us. By 3:00
P.M
. on the day Parsons graduate Narciso Rodriguez launched his eponymous fragrance at Saks, every stairwell, elevator, and hallway at the Department of Fashion Design was lightly perfumed with it. The student body had obviously visited Saks on their lunch break. Luckily for us, Narciso’s scent is captivating and deserving of its popularity. However, always sniff for yourself no matter how captivating the photo or gushing the review. Of course, this also works the other way: You might be surprised how much you enjoy something you heard worrisome things about before sniffing it out for yourself. Just as you never have to tell anyone what size you bought those pants in, you need never reveal that your perfume came adorned with a little puff of marabou.

The Lesson:
Remember when you were a child and had party clothes? Those carefree days of white anklets and patent leather Mary Janes? With adulthood, one gains so much—as lovely as a Shirley Temple may be, a cabernet works better with dinner—but the ease of dressing for festive events is gone forever. Just like your baby fat. Now you may have adult fat, but that’s not the focus of this chapter. Returning a bit of that childish ease to dressing for the out-of-the-ordinary event is what we’d like to do. With a bit of foresight, no invitation—grand or grimy—will throw you.

“You may well ask what ‘formal’ means in a world
where such a thing exists as—Miss Manners shudders
but takes your word for it—a pink dinner jacket.”

—Judith Martin, author of the
“Miss Manners” newspaper column

Today, our point of reference for glamorous dressing is watching our favorite celebrities get gussied up and parade down the red indoor/outdoor carpet. “Not me,” some may sniff. “My point of reference for glamorous dressing is John Singer Sargent.” Fine for you, but the rest of us will be tuning in for the Emmy arrivals. That said, watching all that parading of famous frippery begins to warp our idea of what glamour unconnected to Nielsen ratings should look like. We believe that it has fostered a “more is more” attitude. After growing up watching J.Lo, why would a discerning child want to wear anything but Cavalli for her first communion?

We would like to see a return to a subtler form of glamour, a less sparkly form of glamour. Think of it as less Marilyn, more Lauren Bacall.

Once people lived by a code. Whether it involved Arthurian feats of bravery followed by some balladry, or
Ved forsigtighet og bestandighet
*
, you can bet that the Knights of the Round Table or King Frederick V of Norway always knew exactly what to wear to cocktails. Today things are not so simple. It’s still possible to get a comprehensive guide to etiquette that explains exactly what to wear when, but there’s a good chance that you’ll be the only one at the party who’s read it. If you are the type who will feel comfortable in your brogues, fedora, and traditional peacock-feather collar because that is simply the correct costume for a Yorkshire hunting party in mid-April, lovely. If, however, you notice everyone else is in jeans and cashmere and begin to feel a twinge,
being correct may ultimately be less important than feeling comfortable. The key to special-occasion dressing—and we include vacations in the category of special occasions—is striking the balance between comfort and appropriateness.

Things would be so much easier if new categories of dress were not always popping up on invitations. What would King Frederick have made of “California Casual”? We’ll never know, but we can help you parse out what your host or hostess has in mind. The first question to ask while parsing is: Why a dress code? Assuming your host and hostess are not sadists just dying to see you try and look good in “Hoedown Elegant,” it is a way to foster a certain atmosphere. We once attended an afternoon wedding in Southern California that requested “Picnic Attire.” We sat under beautiful umbrellas and the wedding lunch was packed into picnic baskets, complete with antique linens. It was a warm afternoon, and being able to laze about in clothing more casual than one might expect at a wedding—sundresses on women and khakis on men—gave the whole day an air of summery
dolce far niente
. The dress code went a long way toward creating the type of relaxed atmosphere the bride and groom wanted.

The ambiguity arrives when your feeling for what would further a certain atmosphere clashes with the host’s. Certainly the most efficient way to solve this dilemma is by calling the host or hostess and inquiring what exactly “F. Scott Fitzgerald–Inspired” means. Sometimes you can’t get a straight answer, either because the hostess thinks she is doing you a favor by not pressuring you—of course
she’s not because we’d all prefer to know exactly what is expected of us—or you have no means of contacting the host or hostess. In this case, you must do as much detective work as you can. Where is the event being held? What type of space is it? If the party is at the Pierre Hotel, that gives you one idea; if it’s at the Brooklyn Brewery, that’s another. Are the hosts stuffy lawyer-types or happening book editors? What percentage of the guest list will be tattooed?

Perhaps the most troubling of the newer common categories is “Festive Attire.” We once attended a party where an elegant friend fulfilled the hostess’s request by wearing his usual dark Armani suit with a string of illuminated Christmas lights draped around his neck. Although buying batteries for your wardrobe may not appeal to you, this solution offers an interesting lesson. No matter where you are going and what your host would like, you must remain true to yourself or you’ll end up rushing out and buying something you’ll never wear again. Plus, there is a good chance you’ll feel uncomfortable in what you selected because it just isn’t you, and you will be ill at ease as a result. That is something no host wants. This “to thine own self be true” idea of festive attire does not mean that you should show up in shorts, but it does mean that a bit of whimsy is almost always appropriate. Everyone likes whimsy! Back to the “Festive Attire” situation: This would be the moment to break out something sparkly. Not a Nolan Miller bead-encrusted gown, but a sparkly accent. Whimsical, sparkly accessories are ideal. This is a chance to tap into your inner Isabella Blow. We believe
that festive calls for fun as opposed to super-sexy, i.e., eye-popping displays of cleavage. To many young women, it isn’t going out if their breasts aren’t hoisted to attention. There is something grimly predictable about such displays of cleavage. And this is true for any occasion. Why not highlight another part of you with some gorgeous, no-holds-barred shoes?

Or, if there is no way anybody is talking you out of wearing your favorite black dress and pumps, add a ridiculously huge cocktail ring and some red lipstick. Come on, live a little!

These directives speak much more to men. Briefly, they can be interpreted thusly:

Black Tie Optional
allows for a dark suit, white shirt, and dressy tie if you do not have a tuxedo.

Black Tie Encouraged
is a way to strongly suggest that a tux be worn without making those who do not own tuxes feel inadequate.

Creative Black Tie
is simply an excuse to wear a fresher incarnation of the tux—a black shirt or different type of tie, perhaps. For many men it might be simpler to keep the
conversation
creative and opt for classic black tie.