Alternative Summer Outfit Guide
“Do the hosts know The Great Gatsby wasn’t a love story?”
So you received a ‘party like it’s 1929’ invitation that blissfully ignores this year was the start of the Great Depression. Eschew the flapper Halloween costumes other partygoers have hanging in their closet like remnants of their lost youth, and go with a more historically accurate outfit like a zoot suit or drop waist silk dress. Try to not regale other guests with musings like, “do you realize Scott and Zelda had a volatile, short-lived relationship and she ultimately died in an asylum fire?” so you can secure other party invitations for later in the season.
“I’m pregnant and can’t believe I have to sit through this wedding sober”
You’re not sure why your ex invited you to his wedding other than to make nice for all the years of making you live in a fifth-floor walkup, but you didn’t anticipate being THIS pregnant when you revenge RSVP’d. Your husband isn’t sure why he’s there either, but is taking full advantage of your begrudgingly telling him he can enjoy the open bar. Wear anything vibrant and maternal goddess-inspired that showcases your now ample cleavage. Who’s president of the itty bitty titty committee now, Josh??
“Lest you forget I left my investment banking job for a tech start-up”
Freed from the shackles of Hermes ties and navy power suits, you can showcase your nimble transition from the trading desk to gleefully anticipating your 3D printed pool float company’s IPO. Highlight your creative side with Yeezys and a suit rather than Gucci deal sleds, and stick to liquor because you’re already tired of the IPAs your overenthusiastically decorated WeWork office has on tap. Compliment your date on ‘disrupting’ the garden party aesthetic by wearing wedges that prevent her from sinking into the grass and ignore her tired, blank stares.
“You bet I’m here for the raw bar”
Summer wouldn’t be the most hedonistic season without its seemingly limitless offering of the ocean’s bounty. Honor the fallen crustaceans’ sacrifice by wearing embroidered versions of them from head to toe, using your misguided sartorial statement as an excuse to go back for thirds at the oyster station when they’re clearly running low. Who are they to deprive you of yet another nautically themed Instagram when you already thought of a shellfish pun caption?
“Auditioning for Second Wife”
The important thing here is to look immaculately put together. Preferably in all dry clean only fabrics, something that wrinkles easily like linen, or all white like you’re advertising your purity. Remain tastefully aloof and above the concept that anything bad will happen to your outfit. You’re less evil step parent and more, “we all have our roles to play and mine involves being the last shred of hope that life isn’t the cyclical pattern of desperately hoping those are ketchup stains.”
