Our neighbor just turned seventy and his family threw a Rock Around the Clock birthday bash. They turned their garage – which is cleaner than my living room – into a malt shop complete with chrome tables and sock hop music. In the invitation, fifties attire was encouraged.
So I motored downtown to Wear It Again, Sam. The store is packed with very cool and stylish vintage clothing, shoes and hats. Also expensive, unless you plan on wearing your purchase several times. My hopes of sporting a fabulous outfit a la Doris Day were dashed.
They also rent costumes – poodle skirts, letter jackets, etc. – for $50 to $100 a night.
So we made do. I paired a black-and-white houndstooth pencil skirt with a plain black cashmere sweater and heels, donned garish pearls and poodle scarf, and coaxed my locks into something vaguely resembling a fifties hair style I found on the Internet. K went old school with pink shirt and ugly cardigan, loafers and a borrowed fedora (yes, he wore pants, too). But the glasses made the look.
We rocked around the clock and sipped Coke – wait. No we didn’t. We grazed on crudites and drank wine and watched our friend open a huge pile of gag gifts.
And we were asleep by ten-thirty. Rock on!