what to wear

My date, M, is coming in from Boston.  We have already spent hours on the phone discussing wardrobe.  Around 11 she calls, “I’m leaving now.  I’ve narrowed it down to three outfits that I’m bringing.”  I think she started with seven. 

I go through my closet and pick out the possibilities.  Four different black dresses and one print one.

I also have three possible tops, as the temperature tonight is supposed to be in the 60’s.  A lacy black dress coat (3/4 length sleeves). A sheer black wrap, or a black sheer bolero thing.  Determining which dress I will wear will determine what goes over it.

I get advice from some friends.  One writes:

(If you are going with a plain black dress), then excess arise (sic) the hell out of it maybe your hair up and fabulous shoes

Another suggests:

For tonight, forget the cape, wear a black dress (tight is nice) and great jewelry.  Think "own the room" and be SEXY. Splurge on getting hair done professionally.  HAVE FUN!!!!  Wear the highest shoes you can without killing yourself — and splurge on TAXIS!!!!

I have great high-heeled black Louboutins that rarely come out of my closet, and they won’t tonight either.  They are only good for an event where I am never standing or walking.  Can’t even imagine what that would be.

Nonetheless, a friend writes:

Okay crazy. What is the point of the louboutin shoes if they are just sitting in your closet??? Put them on uncomfortable and look gorgeous.

Despite the advice, I opt for the least uncomfortable heeled shoes I have…a pair of kitten-heeled Manolo’s in a leopard print. 

I consider getting my hair blown out, and go as far as calling the place where I have a Groupon.  Unfortunately they are booked all day, and I don’t want to spend any money on my hair, having just had it colored and cut last week.

I had a manicure on Monday so my nails are good enough.

But then...

Around noon, having cleaned my apartment, I am on my way out to Agata's.  A heavy door slams on my toe.  The pain almost knocks me to the ground.  My big toe swells and some polish gets scraped off.  

I don't think it's broken but it is badly bruised.  I could lose the nail. Walking is hard, but 
I no longer have a shoe dilemma.  

Open-toed sandals win by default.  

shiny, happy people

I used to love this REM song.

Two days of Rosh Hashanah meals.  Last night at Valerie’s in Long Island, and today in Westchester at Abbey’s sister’s house.  11 people Wednesday and 9 people today. 

All of them are shiny happy people.

Gorgeous, impeccably dressed, healthy, successful and all with perfect hair. Even the guys.

I pretend to be one of them.

I just read a book where a main character posts regularly to Facebook.   He is a handsome man with a beautiful wife and two adorable boy twins.  He makes a lot of money and the family lives in a big house, gives generously to charities, and travels to exotic places.  His FB page captures all the wonder of his storybook life.  What it doesn’t tell is the real story.  He has an uncontrollable temper and sometimes beats his wife.  One of his children is a bully to other child in his kindergarten class.  And his wife is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  But there on his FB page are pictures of a smiling family — swimming, sailing, skiing and partying.

I sometimes wonder if, to a lesser degree, I am that person. All shiny and happy on the outside, and more than a little stressed on the inside.

an exciting invitation

Gone Girl is my favorite book in the last few years; and Ben Affleck is one of my favorite Hollywood people.  I am thrilled.

But the invitation poses some dilemmas:

I have clothes for most occasions, but none that really qualify as cocktail attire. 

I have a little black cashmere dress that I bought last year for an engagement party, but it was tightish then, and I’m now about five pounds heavier.

Assuming it does fit, I had planned to wear it with a fox-trimmed cape, but the weather is supposed to be in the 70’s.  Will that look stupid?

I do have beautiful shoes, but none that I can stand in for too long. 

What evening purse do I take?  The two I have are too small to include a second pair of shoes or, even more important, a small camera.

I’m sure I’ll figure it out.  

But even if I ended up wearing Ugg boots with a big tote and a business-y dress, no one will be looking at me.

birthday dinner

Six of us meet for dinner at B Café.  I’d never been, but will certainly be back.

We’ve come to celebrate Zelia’s birthday.  Aside from the excellent food and exotic beers, the most notable thing about tonight is the easy camaraderie among those attending.

Of course, it should be like that, but hasn’t always been.

More than one past birthday celebration has included vociferous disagreements on politics.  Another one resulted in someone being hurt and walking out.  Then there was the time that two people got into a nasty fight over past discretions.  Oh, and let’s not forget the switching of seats because someone preferred sitting next to someone else. 

But tonight is all good.

It’s clear from the laughter, overlapping conversations, and stories worthy of eavesdropping on, that we are the table that everyone else wishes they were at.