New Year's Dresses, Taye Diggs, Dan's Yellow Sweater

Yesterday at Macy's, hoping to hand-pick some miraculous item that would soothe away all the bad ju-ju of returning to work, I quickly became lost amidst a sequined vortex. Bright party dresses, all marked down for the end-of-the-holiday clearance sale. One shouldered purples; strappy beiges; shimmering black satins-- all articulating, somehow, the night I didn't have, the night I don't think I ever had.

It's not as depressing as it sounds. I had a very pleasant New Year's, actually-- but those fabulous dresses always stir a little response in me.

It starts with this question. Who really dresses up for New Year's? My parents did, I think, a few times in the 80's. They would go to the Elks Lodge and see party bands play. My mother was so glamorous in her patent leather shoes with the ankle strap and her careful, plummy lipstick. My dad's red striped tie made a semiannual appearance, tucked away after midnight, ready for the next funeral or wedding.

Those nights out probably weren't as elegant as they seem to be in my imagination. A firehall, balloons. But still, a chance to wear something fancy. I have to ask them if those nights were fun. I bet they were. Even now, New Year's seems to be a big thing for my parents and their circle. Always a party, a cheeseball, tipsy dancing on the rug to Sam Cooke. Always that phone call just after midnight, "Alisa, it's so crazy here!!! Say hi to Aunt Joycie and Uncle Tommy!! Oh, I can barely hear you!!"

When I was a kid I daydreamed about kissing some wonderful stranger at midnight: a man in a tuxedo pulling me close. The dress of my adolescent fantasy was purple with a big sash and puffy skirt, similar to the style popular with girls going to bat mitzvahs...the dress I never actually owned, of course.

Because I never had a place to wear it to!

Now flash forward, say, twenty years and one day to that clearance rack. Where would I wear that sheath-y, champagne colored little flapper dress? Jazz club, in the city. No subway. Taxi there and back. Do I have my husband in this alternate timeline? Sure. He's guiding the small of my back through the crowd. We have a little velvet booth in the back, away from the music, so we can talk.

I think in this little alternate reality we are also good friends with Taye Diggs* (as seen in the movie Chicago). He's at our table and flirts with me until Dan gets the hint. My husband and I hit the dance floor, art-deco lighting softening every line.

The one-shouldered purple dress. Sorry, Dan-- that dress is for a sassy single girl. I don't think you can exist in this imaginary timeline. Maybe I meet you the next day?** That dress and me are going to the Tunnel with a gaggle of riotous girlfriends. We will cram into the ladies room and apply lip gloss and use face powder and complain all night about how awful the guys are at the club, how there's no potential good guys out there, how the drinks cost too much. In this timeline I get to kiss someone at midnight and will probably talk about it a little too much the next day and thereafter. The memory will dim a little each year and become grossly exaggerated and falsified so by the year 2067 everyone "remembers" the night I smooched James Franco.***

In my real life, I met my husband the day after New Year's Day. I wore my hair in cornrows**** and I do believe, if Dan had seen my get up for New Year's that year, he would have run for the hills (red satin halter top, mini skirt. and no, I wasn't especially thin in 2003 if you were curious. but I was looking pretty delicious if I say so myself). Who knew that was my future husband staring down the limp rope of an ill advised cornrow? One beer and a plateful of soul food later, though...it's the start of a life. And I'm so glad I didn't write Dan off because of his yellow sweater, which I found unusually bright*****.

After all, clothes don't really mean anything.

*Hey, it's my fantasy.
**I actually did meet you the next day in real life so stop complaining.
***It could have happened I tell you! I know someone who went to NYU film school who had a class with a guy who met him when he did "Freaks and Geeks".
****I sense you're judging me.
*****but aw, he was so nice. and cute.