Saturday, April 7, 2012

passover: night two (lyn)

I don’t know what to wear.  It’s April so I should wear something spring-like, but it’s freezing out.  I have one pair of gorgeous Louboutin shoes but my feet kill me in them, and I am afraid I could topple over.  But they do look great on.  We are celebrating the second night of Passover at Valerie and Abbey’s club, and earlier this week I get an email from Val with the dress code: 

The club attire on Sat. nite is jacket no tie required.  Elegant attire for the women.
Of all my clothes, I don’t have anything that really qualifies.  I search through my closet.  I take out clothes I haven’t worn in ages and have forgotten about.  The navy Jil Sander pant suit I bought in April of 2006 and have never worn now looks dowdy.  I wonder why I didn't notice its dowdiness when I bought it?  The black Calvin Klein dress I’ve had since 1993 still looks great, but may be too short for my unexercised legs.  And a nice pair of black Theory pants (size 4) fits fine, but I don’t have a blouse in my wardrobe that even remotely qualifies as elegant.  After trying on several outfits, I settle on a black Jil Sander skirt with a scalloped hemline  (also bought in April 2006 at the same Bergdorf shopping spree right before I was let go from my job at phd media), a white Wolford go-to top, and a colorful wrap I got years ago and still looks great.  I wear the Louboutins since (1) I watch a video on how to walk in high heels and practice, (I am such a geek); (2) Adam is driving and I won’t have to walk far; (3) high heels really do look good, and (4) wearing uncomfortable shoes could have a benefit---they may help minimize the number of times I want to walk over to the dessert buffet. I have my hair blown out and it looks good.  I just need to remember to keep my wrap on lest I be mistaken for the wait staff. 
Adam drives, and we arrive at the club on time.  I am relieved to find that the outfit I’m wearing qualifies under my sister’s dress code, although there are people there who must have received another email.  The appetizer buffet includes an endless array of foods, and I partake in much of it.  My shoes are not an inhibitor; in fact, they are reasonably comfortable, so much so, that I want to save for another pair.  I feel (even if I don’t look) sexy in them.
The dinner is preceded by a truncated service, conducted by a rabbi.    The meal itself consists of unfamiliar foods made specifically for Passover, which is a good deterrent for eating too much.  But the dessert table, with chocolate covered candies, 7-layer cake, fruit, mousse, and two kinds of jellyrolls is all too familiar.
My sister's friend takes a picture of our table with an iPhone.  It’s not the best picture, and the top part of me looks too big.  Too bad the picture isn't of my shoes.  

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