The Washington Post

A Finery Romance

Less than two weeks before Christmas, there are three party dresses hanging behind my bedroom door. Sadly, I will wear none of them. I haven’t received a single invitation to a fancy holiday fete this season. Is it just me, or is the seasonal bash a thing of America’s more lucrative past? Do people still have office parties à la Sterling Cooper?

It probably is just me. I’m outing my lacking social life. But a wise girl doesn’t whine; she plans her hypothetical holiday wardrobe. Here’s what I’d don if I ran with the (Christmas) party crowd.

The Liz Taylor: A 1960s emerald green number that my mother found at a thrift store in Florida. Hand-beaded in Hong Kong with Jackie O. lines, it has character — and a tell-tale cigarette burn on the skirt.

The Taylor Swift: A Chloe and Reese pouffy frock that retailed for $550 last year. I paid $43 dollars for it at Neiman Marcus Last Call. It’s low cut, bright pink and perfect for wannabe crossover artists.

The Tailored Shift: A navy silk dress with enough ruching to mask signs of sugar cookie overdose. It’s what I’d actually wear to your shindig. But, ahem, I haven’t seen the Evite yet.

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