From Laura Kosann
As an adult, I sort of can’t stand getting dressed for things people expect me to “get dressed for.” It’s a mystery, because I really love fashion, but the second my Mom tells me “Anything but jeans is fine”, all I can think about is wearing jeans.
When someone says to me “let’s get dressed up,” I suddenly crave getting dressed completely down. As I slip on Yves Saint Laurent Pumps and a Tuxedo Outfit, I stare longingly at my Supergas and Worn White Tee…it’s like they’e calling to me.
And what about when you get “cocktail attire” or “festive” on an invitation? We recently asked a designer what cocktail attire actually is (so yes, now we know) but there’s something about someone telling me to wear cocktail attire that nearly has me opting for My Overalls. I still have that rebellious tomboy inclination when told to “get dressed up,” like when I was in private school and girls had to wear dresses every Thursday and I’d tuck my dress into my tights.
In fact, the times I really get the most “dressed up,” are probably at the most inappropriate times. It’s at a midtown coffee meeting near Port Authority that I’ll sport the statement White Power-Jumpsuit, and then opt for a White Tattered Button Down and Wide Leg Jeans for the private party at The Met Breuer. Come on Laura.
And then there are the times I’m visiting my Grandma…I know just a Red Dress and Loafers, or a perfect Cream Shirt/Beige Pants combo, or a Nautical Striped Shirt with White Cropped Pants will keep me safe from absolute derision, but it’s somehow always those days that I’m testing if I can pull off a Fedora, or wearing an outfit that only works if my Leather Motorcycle Jacket is draped over my shoulders. So, the second I hug Grandma, everything falls apart. That’s when the ridicule begins, and Danielle looks at me – sporting Loafers and Perfect Cropped Pants – telepathically saying Well, what did you think would happen?
I don’t know Danielle, I really don’t know.