Even if you’re not snowed under with invitations to parties, now’s a good time to consider what to wear for special occasions …
In other words, when we dress up. For women, “up” is the operative word – we are more likely to wear high heels, to put our hair up, even to put our breasts into a more structured and uplifting bra. It is a peculiar fact of dressing for special events that we attempt to defy gravity.
Fighting against one of the fundamental laws of nature does of course require more effort than simply giving in to gravity, which instantly makes us look relaxed and casual. But making an effort is part of the deal. When we accept an invitation we are effectively signing a social contract to do our best to make the party take flight, to play our part in a kind of performance. The host has made an effort, and it is our job to reciprocate.
The form which that effort takes is different for men and women. When men receive an invitation they check their diaries. When women receive an invitation they check their diaries and their wardrobes, and not necessarily in that order. Although there are modern dress codes like “smart casual” (surely an oxymoron?), the conventional ones such as “black tie” or (increasingly rare) “morning dress” only speak to men.
Women are left wondering and guessing and, often as not, phoning a friend to see what she is planning to wear.
Here are some of the questions we may find ourselves asking, which men probably don’t. Can I bear to stand for hours in those heels? Is it ok to wear trousers to a wedding? Can I really breathe in that outfit? Should I wear something new or something I’ve worn before and know I feel good in? Is that neckline too low? Does this handbag go with that dress?
All of these are about comfort, in different ways. Some are about physical comfort, others about the social comfort that comes from feeling we look “right”. We carry within us a profound desire to belong because, as I discuss in how to cope with what-to-wear-itis, we humans are social animals and living in groups improves our chances of survival and thus of passing on our genes.
Clothes can also signal status within the group, and one reason we dress “up” is that we aspire to move “up” – again for perfectly good but very old survival reasons. This is likely not in our conscious minds when we stand in front of our wardrobes wondering what to wear for a party, and yet buried in our subconscious is the sense that it will be a showcase where we can assuage our deepest fears of being excluded and the existential consequences that could bring.
So it is little wonder that, even though we live in increasingly informal times, social anxiety can be channelled into wardrobe anxiety. And it can become super stressful when the situation is emotionally heightened – if, say, you know your ex is going to be there or you are mother of the bride.
Parties are reminders that our clothes are so much more than just stuff we put on our bodies for practical reasons. Those little bits of fabric are freighted with meaning.
I used to ask myself another question before going to a party: will my husband and I look as if we are going to the same event? The answer, I have learned to accept, is almost certainly not. Unless the dress code is very strict, I will naturally tend to look as if I’m going to an urban dinner party and he will nearly always look as if he’s going to a weekend barbecue in the country. As well as being different sexes, we have different aesthetics and different thresholds for clothing-related effort. And sometimes – as I waste time trying on different outfits while he swans in and gets ready in two minutes – I really do envy him.
A fashion designer once said: “always take one last look in the mirror before you leave the house”. I can’t recall who said it, but it was definitely a man. It is bad advice, I think, because that one last look can allow a sliver of self-doubt to creep in. I would say, on the contrary, choose what you’re going to wear, and damn well wear it. Don’t revisit all those questions, because that way madness lies.
Having said that, I admit I have been known to have a last-minute footwear crisis. This involves me trying a different shoe on each foot to see which looks best with what I’m wearing. It’s a sartorial accident waiting to happen and only a matter of time before I go out wearing non-matching shoes. And when I do, I won’t even mind because one of the great things about being at a party is that you can stop worrying about what to wear and get on with having fun. At last.
Life, Death & Getting Dressed, How To Love Your Clothes … and Yourself by Rebecca Willis (New River) is out now.
