Happy one-year birthday to this Oscar de la Renta gown, which conveniently is its own party. And just like so many parties I’ve been to, it starts out very solidly, everything holds together well, it’s precise, it’s on its best behavior. Then, as the evening wears on, things get a bit looser, control slips away, it maybe has to blink a little harder, it went all-in on the wrong karaoke song, and it ended up curling up on the bathroom floor because it feels good on their forehead and standing up is hard because the toilet is spinning and why IS that?
Or, in simpler terms, I wish it didn’t devolve into translucency. But why say it that way, when I can torture a metaphor and bang for ten more minutes on my keyboard?