I survived Thanksgiving, Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Now I’m faced with the ultimate holiday test: My husband’s office Christmas party.  Not only will my husband’s boss be there, but the boss’s boss, and the boss’s boss’s boss, up to the CEO.  I’ve got my little black dress;  now I need pretty shoes for under $200.  —Jennifer

Manolo says ayyyyy! The moment of great danger approaches, when the innocent young peoples who have ventured forth — Hansel and Gretel style — into the deep thicket of The Corporate Woods encounter the gingerbread house at the center.

Yes, at the first glance, the holiday office party would appear to be a festive sort of thing, with the decorations, the twinkling lights and the row of smiling bosses with their skinny-toned, Harvard MBA trophy wives.

But do not be deceived, young person! There are traps, monsters and witches waiting, eager to pull you from the career ladder and devour your chances at getting your own reserved parking space in the office garage.

Keep in mind these sensible rules of proper behavior: Do not talk about the election just past; do not have that third glass of champagne; and do not, under any circumstances, dance with the boss, the boss’s boss or the boss’s boss’s boss to the “slow jam.”

Look! Here is the Vivian from the Badgley Mischka ($195, Zappos.com), the sandal that seems festive.