In my ongoing attempt to capture and sustain female friendships, I attended a coworker’s party this weekend - she and a few of my other coworkers are pretty much the only reminders I’d like to have of my office. She’s a few years younger than me and recently graduated from college. She was also in a sorority.
Now, this all works out great - I’m hopelessly immature for my actual age and she has all the qualities that I look for in a buddy - slightly mean sense of humor and a positive, whole-hearted attitude toward doing fun things and going to sketchy bars.
However, we do kind of come from different cultures, as evidenced by the housewarming party this weekend - As much as I wanted to fit in and have a good time, I was caught without a party shirt.
Everything else was great - they were playing jock jams, which I openly enjoy, they were serving vodka from a bottle bigger than my torso, and I met several nice, funny, intelligent people right away. But really, deep down, I knew that everyone was staring at my lack of a party shirt. I hadn’t thought things through upon leaving the house - I had on a ratty t-shirt with the collar cut out that used to be my dad’s.
You could see it in their eyes - where is that girl’s party shirt? It was like one of those dreams where you’re naked, expect in this case I was unexpectedly caught wearing cotton.
In the cab home, I realized that I’ve never even owned a party shirt - something that shows off my arms, back, and boobs - something shiny and sequined and tight and sexy that involves tubes and halters and things. Something that says, I am dressed specifically to party, whether or not it happens to be the dead of winter. Something that says, breathing comfortably isn’t as important to me as having a fabulous time.
It might have also helped if I had put on makeup or brushed my hair. I suppose most of the problem stems from the fact that I attended a hippy college, where I would describe people’s party shirts as “sometimes clean.” And the other part of the problem stems from the fact that my less than ample rack makes it hard for me to find fitted shirts that aren’t geared toward Dora the Explorer fans.
I find it happens more and more these days - how I feel doesn’t match how I choose look on the outside. Even though I felt in a party shirt mood and was engaged in party shirt activities (yes, I took a picture of me holding the vodka bottle that was almost too big to pour), I’m afraid people don’t understand that I’m wearing a party shirt on the inside. I can only hope that people get to know me well enough to understand that, metaphorically speaking, I have a closet full of them.
12 comments
Comments feed for this article
Trackback link
http://sarahaswell.com/2008/02/18/can-one-party-without-a-party-shirt/trackback/
February 18, 2008 at 9:24 pm
emiry
I invited a couple over for dinner this weekend, and I starting to cook a little later than expected, so when they showed up ….in full dinner party attire - She: black dress, pumps, tights & he: button up collard shirt, nice jeans, leather belt & shoes - … I was still in my kitchen, elbow deep in raw meatballs, wearing the shirt I slept in the night before, jeans, and river shoes. Yes, I wear river shoes as my house shoes because they are orthopedic. And they make me look like an idiot.
February 19, 2008 at 8:23 am
April
While we’re speaking metaphorically, I’d like to think that I washed a load of party shirts and put them into the dryer. But I’m just too lazy to put them back into my closet.
February 19, 2008 at 9:51 am
Kemo
As native Hawaiian it is my duty to inform you
…in the islands, your ratty t-shirt is lovingly referred to as one’s “puka” shirt. Puka means “hole” in Hawaiian, (you know - puka beads) i.e.; one’s favorite shirt with lots of holes in it.
The term derives it’s origins from the surfing crowd and is indeed, not only A Party shirt,
Dear, …… it is THE MOTHER of Party shirts!
So wear it with pride….and party on!
February 19, 2008 at 11:15 am
Sara
I would just like to say that I noticed your shirt and my first thought was not at all about it’s lack of “party shirt” status. I thought it was cute. I also liked your tiny cardigan you wore over it. Also, by not wearing a “party shirt,” you avoided comments suggesting perhaps yours was shrunk in the dryer…
Hehe
P.S. My friends loved you and Ben
February 19, 2008 at 12:02 pm
Bipolarlawyercook
Party shirt is a state of mind.
February 19, 2008 at 12:03 pm
bpd
All a party shirt really does anyway is make easy chicks easier to spot. I prefer metaphorical ones, really, more often than not.
That’s not to say I’m not easily distracted by shiny things, but all that glitters is not free of the syph.
February 19, 2008 at 12:59 pm
kate
You might not have a party *shirt*, but you totally have a party dress. I’m pretty sure I remember the dress you wore at Thanksgiving showing off your rack.
February 19, 2008 at 8:29 pm
hiptocode
dude. fun IS the party shirt.
February 19, 2008 at 8:54 pm
emiry
bdp’s comment is cracking me up! the syph hahaha
February 20, 2008 at 8:34 am
April
I read this:
“I remember the dress you wore at Thanksgiving showing off your rack.”
as this
“…showing off your crack.
February 20, 2008 at 2:31 pm
clearlykels
Hmmm, see, I have no room to talk. I possibly went out last night and bought 5 tops that could be considered party shirts. Also, I might be the girl that is turning dinner on Sunday night into a dinner party so that I can wear one of those shirts and set the table with the fancy wine glasses and my new napkins and table cloth. Right, so, possibly I don’t understand
February 29, 2008 at 5:49 pm
Amy
maybe i shouldn’t bring this up here, but i can’t help it…it’s an older entry, no one else is coming back to it, right?
remember that black v-neck sleeveless shirt you had at grinnell that i also had? i don’t remember exactly, but i believe you called it your infallible “get some tonight” shirt. well, i still have mine, and i still think of that every time i put it on, although it doesn’t always seem to get me laid. perhaps that’s a different kind of party.
as always, love the blog.