I once wore black tie to a “gala” theater opening, and literally four different people asked if my wife and I had just been married. I can only dream of living in a world wherein owning “fun formal” is appropriate.
One day I’ll find a tartan dinner jacket in a thrift store in my size, and I’ll buy it, and have to find a way to wear it.
Heck, I’d throw the party myself if I knew even one person who owned a tux. Or a suit.
Vox, as always, looks tremendous.
F/W 11-12 black tie event #3, or the dying habit of the formal informal party.
My favorite black tie party is not the big soirée brimming with strangers and rubbery hors d’œuvre, but small parties with family and friends for which customs of moderation and austerity in semi-formal dress can replaced with something a bit more eccentric. I suspect that we are about the last members of the last generation of Americans still to do parties like this. It is done fewer times each year, and some years not, but off we go with like-minded chums to celebrate a friend’s birthday party held at her home.
