Tuesday, November 6, 2007

LBD...or No One Dresses for Dinner Anymore

Thanks to J and M for an amazing evening's dinner at Harvest. When food is so good that it makes you cry, now that's a meal.

But to my point: My Mum is right. No one dresses for dinner anymore. I mean, I'm sorry, but if the menu features "hand dug Macomber turnips" then damnit, you ought to be dressing up. There is always a place to wear your Little Black Dress.

Care for the staff's work as much as they are caring for you: Put on something nice. Make it an event.

Now granted, I could extrapolate this to include MC's wonton soup, which while not hand-dug, is so incredibly good that it might be made from the pure and virginal blood of innocent little babies and I'd beg for more.

But what do I usually wear on Sunday night to MCs? Frumpy clothes.

Does that mean that I should be wearing my brand-spanking new, silk charmeuse LBD for egg rolls?

I hate when I back myself into a logical bind.

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