When the time comes, the wardrobe crisis will be back with a vengeance
I can’t wait to have a wardrobe crisis. I miss them. The heap of discarded clothes grows as the clock ticks down. My heart rate rises like I’m Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible. I’m trying to figure out which dress goes with which shoes rather than defuse a bomb, but still. The stakes feel pretty high. And never more so than now.
When the time for “going out-out” comes – which, as I’m writing this, has been pushed back a few weeks – the wardrobe crisis will be back with a vengeance. Getting dressed to go out is a completely different ballgame from just getting dressed. So many things to think about. What are my friends wearing? When they said it would be fun to get dressed up, did they mean, like, jeans and a nice top, or floor-length and a blow-dry? Is it weird to dress to celebrate the end of something that isn’t over for everyone? Why do fancy clothes so rarely have sleeves? What happens if it rains or gets cold? If someone can invent driverless cars, why are strapless bras still so uncomfortable?
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