On the day of my own department's holiday party, I first had to take NJ Transit, submit grade sheets, and otherwise be practical, so the thought of dressing up never even entered into it. I went the usual nothing-stained, nothing-torn approach... only to see a department administrator all sparkly and think, man, that looks like fun! I had also not dressed up the previous Friday, when I did the unthinkable and went out in the big city - dinner at Prune and a party in Williamsburg. It was chic; I was not.
Well, this afternoon is my husband's work party, and there's precisely nothing I must do, other than walk the poodle, before the big event. And it's being held basically a few yards from our apartment. I have no excuse not to wear something fabulous. But what? Vogue, you are of no use here.
UPDATE
As predicted, at a party for scientists, held in the middle of the scientists' workday at that, I was massively overdressed on account of wearing something that wasn't jeans (knee-length black shirt, long-sleeved t-shirt, the height of glam) and, OK, maybe a bit of sparkly makeup. My problem, not theirs, but not really a problem because I'm in favor of getting dressed up for even the slightest hint of a reason.
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