I don’t know if I felt out-of-place as much as out of fashion. My husband works for a prestigious ballet company, and we were recently invited to their yearly fund-raising gala. Now I knew this would be a lavish affair, but was a little uncertain as to the dress code. Black tie? No tie? Jeans and T-shirt? Obviously the latter was not an option, my beloved 501s and baggy sweater simply would not cut it on the dance floor, but the other extreme was a problem as well.
Thus far I’ve managed to get by in life without purchasing a slinky, off the shoulder, diamond studded evening gown (just not my style, not to mention price range), so I decided to go for the middle ground. I own several nice church/ business type dresses and after much contemplation and modeling for my daughter, I decided on a cute black affair with a red belt and red shoes. Add to that the best of my meager jewelry collection and I was on the diving board, ready to make a splash.
Upon arrival the splash turned into a belly flop. It was immediately apparent that even in my best, I was seriously under dressed, or maybe I should say that everyone else was under dressed. I kid you not when I say that some of the womens evening wear was, well, barely there. How do they keep these things up? Is there some type of body spray that glues the garment to your chest?
Anyway, after my sweet husband brushed off my fashion concerns, I decided to feel good about myself and enjoy the evening. And enjoy we did. The food was to die for, the entertainment – excerpts from favorite ballets – was stunning, and afterwards there was a great dance band. My husband, an enthusiastic swing dancer, had great fun twirling me around the dance floor, and I for one, didn’t have to worry about my dress falling off.