I fear that if I mention New Year’s Eve one more time you all might come forth as a stampeding, angry mob holding pitchforks intended for my jugular, so before we begin let it be known that NYE shall henceforth be called Zoo Year’s Steve.
That said, my Zoo Year’s Steve was spent lollygagging around my apartment and eating things until a friend sent me the text I’d been dreading all week: “What are you going to wear tonight?”
I had no idea. I never have any idea because despite my hyper-propensity for planning my future in a ten-year trajectory, I cannot for the life of me pre-plan an outfit. Instead, what I like to do — especially before nights that require a Look — is procrastinate until the final hour and then run to SoHo in a sweaty panic to find something to wear. It’s an awful tactic that typically causes me to spend more money than I wanted to on a stupid embellished skirt all because I needed something festive, new, and NOW, as was the case with this particular Zoo Years Steve.
With the night behind me and The Holidays officially over, this skirt began to haunt my conscience, mostly because of the two-hundred-plus dollars that I was one-hundred-percent-plus not supposed to spend. It threatened to fester and de-bead, taunting me with the fact that I’d never use it again and there was no way I could return it post-wear (NOT THAT I DO THAT! ONLY SOMETIMES! JK I REALLY DO NOT DO THAT. I DON’T). But then, mid-fetal position, I realized that I was being an idiot.
The skirt is really pretty. It’s pink and silvery and intricate and patterned, a cry from anything else that permeates my daily wardrobe but not so outrageous that I can’t make it work. So now I’m going to project a here’s how and make you think it’s for you even though I really need to advice too.
First, we’re going to need some basic t-shirts and oxfords. Keep them on the baggy side to avoid looking contrived. (If you bought a dress or jumper, just layer over. If your sequined item-o-choice was a pair of pants or a skirt, wear the shirt like a normal human. If that’s hard for you, yell YOLO. If your Steve-a-thon-jawn was a blazer, HANG ON.)
Next, let’s add a sweater. Keep it chunky, funky and textured to cut the saccharine. A crew neck sweatshirt will also rule. Layer over your shirt. Blazer kids, now you can add the blazer on over. (If you bought a tiny blazer fit for a baby, go for a paper-thin layering knit. Reconsider buying one-size up next time in case you’re not an actual baby, but no worries, we’re here to learn.)
For the skirt and dressed-to-kill club, just add black tights and ankle boots then shine on sweet Lindsays. If you went the sparkly pantaloons route, simple black pumps will do. And, let’s none of us forget the sweet pairing perfection of sneakers.
Remember, it’s not our sparkly dresses’ and glimmering blazers’ fault that the party said “Pants Optional, Sequins Mandatory.” It is, however, our duty to, a la Tim Gunn, Make. It. Werq.