TLOML's 40th celebrations rumble on. Tonight we go to the Met to see La Boheme. Aren't we fancy?
Well yes, actually we are. And I like an excuse to get dressed up. Now according to what I have seen in that well known guide to Manhattan etiquette, Sex and the City, one should wear couture to the Met. Preferably Oscar de la Renta. And then hang off the arm of a handsome-but-inappropriate chap in black tie.
But I know, from that time I wore my tutu and flesh coloured leotard out, that what works for Carrie does not always work for me. So I googled the Met dress code and here is what I learned...
Yelp is usually a good source. And this Yelper was adamant: 'Put on your most ridiculously fancy dress, don gloves and a freakin' stole if you feel like it, you won't feel out of place for a second. Wear a floor length black velvet gown, and glide out onto the balcony, to look at the people who, although they are not all so attractive, did come here from all over the world, and took the time to get dressed in their best duds.'
I'm not sure about a floor length velvet gown though. I'm not sure about velvet anything to be honest. Except maybe a cushion. So I was still leaning like a lazy girl towards the ubiquitous skinnies, heels and a slinky top.
For what it's worth, the Met themselves say 'There is no dress code at the Met. People dress more formally for Galas or openings of new productions, but this is optional. We recommend comfortable clothing appropriate for a professional setting.' Okay, it isn't opening night. But we aren't working either. So I'm not wearing a 'pant suit' and that's for sure.
Then I read this brilliant Yelp contribution from one Rebecca K, which removed all doubt:
'To all Hipsters - I don't wander into your coffee shop indie-jam sessions wearing a gown and satin heels. So please keep your 10:00-shadow, flannel, 1980's glasses and ball cap wearing hipster filth out of the Metropolitan Opera House. Even Basquiat knew when to don a tailored suit. Have some respect for the arts.
[At my last visit] There were random hipsters out for an elegant night of "non-conformism", one female wearing her grandmother's glasses, flannel, jeans, and sneakers, and her male in a "vintage" blazer from Urban Outfitters, a t-shirt with something pointlessly "ironic" printed on the front of it, and skinny jeans. A pair of young females also in t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers (but one wore a fedora) were sloppily eating ice cream cones whilst heading up the stairs for their seats (why they were let in with those I do not know). And there I was in a satin gown and pumps with numerous other befuddled patrons of the arts, doggy-paddling through the sea of anti-pathy that began swelling up within me as I watched the hipsters scuttle by in their desperately indifferent fashions. It was positively horrific.
A little respect would be nice. It's the Opera House not Yankee Stadium.'
'Rebecca K' made me laugh out loud. She also made me very afraid. I may not be wearing satin but fo' shizz I will dress right up.
Well yes, actually we are. And I like an excuse to get dressed up. Now according to what I have seen in that well known guide to Manhattan etiquette, Sex and the City, one should wear couture to the Met. Preferably Oscar de la Renta. And then hang off the arm of a handsome-but-inappropriate chap in black tie.
But I know, from that time I wore my tutu and flesh coloured leotard out, that what works for Carrie does not always work for me. So I googled the Met dress code and here is what I learned...
Yelp is usually a good source. And this Yelper was adamant: 'Put on your most ridiculously fancy dress, don gloves and a freakin' stole if you feel like it, you won't feel out of place for a second. Wear a floor length black velvet gown, and glide out onto the balcony, to look at the people who, although they are not all so attractive, did come here from all over the world, and took the time to get dressed in their best duds.'
I'm not sure about a floor length velvet gown though. I'm not sure about velvet anything to be honest. Except maybe a cushion. So I was still leaning like a lazy girl towards the ubiquitous skinnies, heels and a slinky top.
For what it's worth, the Met themselves say 'There is no dress code at the Met. People dress more formally for Galas or openings of new productions, but this is optional. We recommend comfortable clothing appropriate for a professional setting.' Okay, it isn't opening night. But we aren't working either. So I'm not wearing a 'pant suit' and that's for sure.
Then I read this brilliant Yelp contribution from one Rebecca K, which removed all doubt:
'To all Hipsters - I don't wander into your coffee shop indie-jam sessions wearing a gown and satin heels. So please keep your 10:00-shadow, flannel, 1980's glasses and ball cap wearing hipster filth out of the Metropolitan Opera House. Even Basquiat knew when to don a tailored suit. Have some respect for the arts.
[At my last visit] There were random hipsters out for an elegant night of "non-conformism", one female wearing her grandmother's glasses, flannel, jeans, and sneakers, and her male in a "vintage" blazer from Urban Outfitters, a t-shirt with something pointlessly "ironic" printed on the front of it, and skinny jeans. A pair of young females also in t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers (but one wore a fedora) were sloppily eating ice cream cones whilst heading up the stairs for their seats (why they were let in with those I do not know). And there I was in a satin gown and pumps with numerous other befuddled patrons of the arts, doggy-paddling through the sea of anti-pathy that began swelling up within me as I watched the hipsters scuttle by in their desperately indifferent fashions. It was positively horrific.
A little respect would be nice. It's the Opera House not Yankee Stadium.'
'Rebecca K' made me laugh out loud. She also made me very afraid. I may not be wearing satin but fo' shizz I will dress right up.
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