For Christmas parties. The vintage shops are packed with people trying on frocks and sparkly things. I bought one myself, a frock that is. Black lace with a green silk band around the middle. A 60’s shape. Very Joan of Mad Men.
In general I like Christmas parties partly because people do dress up. There’s perfume in the air and glittery things around. I like the holiday punch in a retro punch bowl. The plates of savoury appetizers–yum sausage rolls, things in phyllo pastry, mini quiches. (My mum’s mushroom tarts.) I like the cheese plates and the bowls of nuts. I like the clink of glasses and the smooches under the mistletoe. I like seeing how people decorate their houses and I LOVE a real Christmas tree (getting mine this weekend. yay!). Even Christmas music can be okay, as long as it’s sung by the likes of Frank Sinatra. And at these Christmas parties I know and like a lot of the people.
This weekend Arlequino and I have three parties to go to (well, I’ll go to three, him only two). Two are on the same night. Two are in Waterloo, the other is in Guelph. Two are work-related. That feels like about two too many parties to me. Especially for people like us who are just as happy to put on pyjamas, crack open the bottle of red, and snuggle up together on the couch watching some British costume drama or rom com or HBO-type series. We’re not really misanthropic; we merely enjoy our own and each other’s company.
And yet, there’s something about the Christmas party that brings out the party girl in me. Perhaps it really is all about the frock. Say yes to the dress. And makeup.