Dressing for Dinner

No, not like just a bottle of Ranch as a meal. (Though with a little crudité, that sounds pretty good right now.)

Remember when people would dress for dinner?

Or at least, remember those old movies where the characters would show up at a restaurant dressed in their evening finery? Well-tailored and shapely looks. Muted, stately, dark suits and ties. Lowered necklines and glistening jewels. An air of excitement crackling around them. Anticipation for the night’s festivities and feast.

Or those same sorts sweeping down grand, spiraling staircases in their beaded gowns and crisp tuxedos. Often with one hand lightly-spilling a coupe of champagne while the other hand dances, leaving a trail of cigarette smoke tracing the gestural paths. Everyone laughing. The formal attire popping everyone’s posture. The movement of the group as they’re called into dinner by their gracious host like a dreamy waltz. Backs straight and arms out, taking small deliberate steps, weaving in amongst each other. Bows and curtsies. Manners and courtesies.

An occasion.

Worthy of all the extra starch and layers. In despite of the dry cleaning bills.

I’m all for comfort and convenience. But there is something missing these days — that sense of occasion. 

Certain events in life, certain times, certain places demand more fuss, greater ado, increased spectacle. That’s how we honor those times, those moments in our lives that we treasure.

Should we adopt white-tie formality for every meal? Of course not.

But find those opportunities to make an event an Occasion.

And if you want to don your finest and doff your caps, no more festive spot than the Victorian Belle Mansion.