Monday evening, Le Groupe held a gala fundraiser at The French Embassy. My primary tasks for the evening were to greet the guests, guide them toward the entrance of the labyrinth [which consisted of pathways defined by small, lit(!) candles on the (!)floor] and replace the aforementioned candles when they were inevitably kicked over by the diplomatic set.
It was grand: the Embassy itself is an art deco palace and at the end of the evening, we had the left-over champagne and some of the tiniest hors d’oeuvres anyone had ever seen. And, of course, I had to be dressed up, which is always fun. For those of you familiar with my multi-purpose dress, I came up with a new asymmetrical way to wear it. A hit, Marie-Claire (one of the dancers) found the most intriguing aspect of it was the amount of left boob that was exposed, which begged the question, how was everything staying put?
The events of Monday evening, however, highlighted a disturbing – albeit hardly new –trend. I am by no means well-versed in the language of fashion. Only a year ago, The Girls launched a determined campaign geared toward enlightening me on The Ways of Such Things. After much concerted effort, a compromise was struck wherein I could wear sneakers out dancing without repudiation, so long as I put on a little make-up. They were and are patient teachers, deserving, I fear, of a more malleable pupil.
Nevertheless, there is one thing I do know and it is this:
Flip-flops are NOT formal wear.
I don’t care how unseasonably warm it is for late-September, you can find lovely sandals that have no more foot-coverage than you standard pair of flip-flops. [I don’t know, is it the lack of coverage that people find so appealing…?]
I was shocked – shocked! – to see this atrocity perpetrated not by teens and early 20s co-eds, but by respectable (although this qualifier could be called into question) middle-aged diplomats and patrons of the arts. What is going on?!
I’m not the biggest fan of flip-flops under the best of circumstances. I find they have an unsettling effect on the wearer’s walk and posture. As footwear, they have their place: the beach, cottage, canoe trips (I don’t want to hear any sass about my own dollar-store beauties), etc. And I wouldn’t dream of denying anyone of their preferred summer footwear. But please don’t pretend they are somehow Gala-appropriate.
Note to my readers who have recently entered university:
Your flip-flop-wearing sins will be overlooked. I clearly recall arriving at my 8:30am Friday enviro. sci. tutorial clad in the same pajamas I had worn to bed the previous evening. On top of that, the tutorial in question was led by none other than Brad, hunky TA and Champion of the Environment. Seventeen-year-old me thought Brad was dreamy!
So, your everyday around campus flip-flops have got nothing on that.
[Still with the Enviro. Sci. here]:
Once, after we had a guest lecture from the president of a logging company known for its stringent sustainability practices and the course’s two other TAs – angry, dreadlocked, no-doubt granola-eatin’ Feminists – got their patchouli-drenched undies in a bunch and, one after the other, launched into an indignant tirade directed at the company and its murder of innocent trees in front of the guest lecturer, no less [man, I hated that department], Brad rose from his seat and calmly expounded on the need for tolerance, understanding, and yes, even sustainable logging practices.
Frankly, he could have told us to go club some baby seals and wear their pelts while burning a few acres of rainforest, and I’m pretty sure the majority of the female population in the lecture hall, bedecked in their MEC finery, would have complied. Ugh, did I mention I hated that department…?
But I digress.
Simple rules of thumb for flip-flops
Yes: beach, cottage, public showers, gym locker rooms
No: job interviews, weddings, gala fundraisers
So if in the process of getting dolled-up, you find yourself stuck looking at the “super-cute” $3-pair you picked up from Old Navy, and say, “These ones have rhinestones – that kind of makes them formal…?” No, it does not. Or “How about these ones with the sweet little sunflower?” Not on your life. Look at it this way, if they’re made of plastic and/or float in water, do yourself a favor: Go for another option.
***
And if, by some bizarre happenstance, this blog is read by the woman I saw out dancing in Moncton who saw fit to pair her hoochie club ensemble with white Crocs and thought that was acceptable (I’m only assuming) because they were studded with “diamond” jewels, I have this to say to you:
Sweetheart, they’re Crocs; the rhinestones don’t make ‘em look “hot.”
*3 snaps in Z-formation, turn on heel, and walk away*
