'On New Year's Eve you will be wearing a filmy dress held up by strands of angel hair, with your nipples showing through'
The party dress of the moment, this New Year's Eve, is a spaghetti-strapped slip, or its camisole equivalent worn with skinny black trousers. Slinky but simple, it is half boudoir, half grunge. Think of Kate Moss in her mid-90s heyday. (That slippery, silvery Liza Bruce number she wore out partying with Naomi Campbell, with her black knickers showing, is a fashion touchstone of the season.)
So on 31 December you'll be wearing gossamer silk held up by strands of angel hair, with your nipples showing through. And you'll jump in a time machine and pop into the Groucho circa 1994, right? No. You're going to a pub quiz. Or a dinner to which you've offered to take a starter (Ottolenghi, obvs). Or – at the wildest – a house party from which you have booked a cab home at 1am.
I hate to sound a party killjoy. These end-of-December days, when Christmas is sort of finished but sort of not, are weird. The nothingness of these days is the main reason New Year's Eve is still A Thing long after adulthood has hit us with the realisation that Jools Holland is prerecorded.
I am all in favour of dressing up on NYE, even if these days I am not promising to stay up till midnight. But in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I feel it is best to face 2014 square on. That means avoiding two spaghetti strap slip-up scenarios. The first is where you think, brilliant, I've got a dress like that, Topshop 10 years ago, and put it to the back of your mind until 8pm on the night, when you try it on, stare at your pale, doughy shoulders and realise the celeb-caught-in-underwear you most resemble is Cherie Booth opening the door of Number 10 in her nightie.
The second is where you pre-try the dress, and fake-tan and underwear-solution your way to sartorial glory, only to arrive at the party to find everyone in cashmere, and have to borrow something to keep warm. All compromises are not created equal: pyjamas at midnight on NYE I am in favour of; a cardigan from your hostess's coat peg I am not. You will need a layer for warmth and, perhaps, skintone, so sort one out in advance. Another year older, another year wiser, remember?
• Jess wears velvet top, £45, by Cooperative, from urbanoutfitters.co.uk. Camisole, £42, and trousers, £50, both topshop.com. Patent sandals, £240, kurtgeiger.com.
Hair and makeup: Sharon Ive at Carol Hayes Management using Lancôme.