A couple of years ago, my friend Leslie invited me to her birthday party. It was at the local kids' museum, with lemon cake frosted with chocolate. And the theme was "Circus."
The day before the party, I asked Leslie's husband, Alan, if this, like all their former fantastic parties, was dress-up. Alan said it was.
So, I decorated myself. I went as a tightrope walker, with a red sequined headpiece, a feather boa, fishnet stockings and tall boots, thick fake-lashes. I thought I looked quite smashing.
It was only upon entering the party--late, from having had lash-glue trouble--that I noticed that everyone was in normal clothes. Everyone except Alan and me. He was the ring master. I was mortified.
To add salt to the wound, there were real tightrope walkers at this party. They were doing all kinds of tricky aerial stuff. And they were dressed normal, too.
When Alan and Leslie had a Mad Men Holiday Bash the other night, I didn't call first for the dress code. I just put on something that could go either way.
FALL 2015 TOUR
1 year ago