Give Thanks When You Find the Recipe for Dressing
The elegant Thanksgiving table is set--crystal, china and silver are gleaming. The heirloom tablecloth, painstakingly starched and ironed, is decorated with a cornucopia of golden fruit. And down the hall, in the family room, next to the coffee table laden with chips and dip, the television set is blasting yet another half of football.
Peg and Al are due at this annual neighborhood celebration in 15 minutes. But, as usual, they’ll be late. They can’t decide what to wear. It’s the same old harangue: Do they dress for the formal dining room setting? Or the casual atmosphere of the family room?
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SHE: If you wear your Levi’s and that Bob Dylan T-shirt again this year I’m not going. Last year, I was embarrassed. You looked stylish next to the Sony and stupid next to the Waterford.
Come on, Al, this is just a once-a-year deal. Wear your gabardine slacks and a golf shirt, at least. Even better, throw on a Van Heusen and a tie. The Joneses would be pleased, and I’d be proud.
HE: Sheila might like it. Ed would slug me. You want me to show up the host? Last year he wore a Raiders jersey, and he strapped on a forearm blocking pad at the half and started doing crack-backs on the credenza. Besides, it can get ugly in there when the blood’s up and the clam dip starts flying. If there’s a 90-yard kickoff return no dry-cleaner on earth would touch my clothes. Aren’t beer and salsa stains indelible? Heck, I shouldn’t be wearing a suit by Armani; I should be wearing one by NASA!
SHE: But Sheila , make that Sheeeeelah, is dressing up. As always. Gosh, I hope she doesn’t wear her old Homecoming Queen dress again. I’ve run out of cute things to say about it.
Word’s out she bought Ed a new sport coat to wear tonight. So, come on, Al . I know! How about your Levi’s with a Van Heusen and a tie?
What should I wear? I look in this dark closet and all I see is same old, same old, same old. I know: don my little black dress, the one I wear on Christmas, New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day, my birthday, your birthday and our anniversary.
HE: What the heck, knock yourself out. Wear red. Anything red. And a plastic holly sprig. That way you’ll be sure to outdo Sheila (which was your motive in the first place; admit it), you’ll put yourself in the proper holiday spirit and you’ll be highly visible. That way we can see you coming from a long way off and we can temporarily quit throwing the Cheez Whiz before you walk into the TV room.
As for me: Levi’s, OK. White shirt, OK. But if I wear a tie it’s gotta be the one with “Mike Ditka Is A Weenie” printed on it. Gotta make known my feelings about Da Bears.
SHE: How did you know I was wanting to show up Sheila? She’s a pain, let me tell you. The minute you walk through the door, she says: “Peg! You always did look good in that.”
Guess I could wear the red dress I found on sale at Nordstrom Rack last week (OK, I paid full-price at Saks Fifth Avenue). But I was saving it for Christmas.
You are going to dress up for Christmas, right, Al? No Bermuda shorts and Reyn Spooner this year. We’re going to Mother’s, and she just bought new dessert dishes at Tiffany.
HE: Ah, finally a reason to dress up: Wear a coat and tie or get an entire 1993 of unending gravel-like whining from the Woman Who Invented Grief. But I think I have a compromise. How about slacks (or good Levi’s), a sport shirt and a good sweater--maybe one of those big, lumpy, multicolored cardigans with the wood buttons? They’re comfortable, they look real seasonal and they’re washable in case I tell the Jesus-Moses-and-Jack Nicklaus joke and Ed spurts beer out his nose.
SHE: Perfect. You’ll be above reproach in a look I’ll call Classic California Holiday. Leave the sweater off for football and put it on to cover up the Cheez Whiz stains while we’re in the dining room.
You like this red dress? Fetch the holly sprig!
HE: Actually, I kind of like you in the holly sprig. I’ll fetch the dress later.
