
In college in the '90s, two of my friends attended what they thought was a casual party wearing
J.Crew roll-neck sweaters,
pegged oversized jeans and some version of Timberland hiking boots. When they arrived, they realized that it was more of a
classy soiree--girls were done up in
dresses and pearls and the boys wore blazers and nice shoes. My friends spent the rest of the night feeling like lumberjack wildebeests, enduring snotty girl stares, futilely hitting on guys, and explaining awkwardly to everyone they met, "We didn't know it was dressy!" I have made them tell me this story one hundred times.
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There's something about the late '80s/early '90s Versace image that makes me absolutely INSANE and flooded with love. It's decadent, but not in a way that seems gaudy; wild and sexy, but not sleazy or cheap. Versace clothes and accessories from this period seem like the stuff the coolest girl at the party would

be wearing while she drank champagne, flirted, told good jokes and stories, but never got
too drunk. It is, in essence, my adolescent ideal of what a grownup woman should be. I'm even crazy about the bizarro vintage ads, which feature
supermodels in perhaps too-bright attire jumping, standing on boulders, hanging upside down--all just really glamour-jubilant, triumphant in their own fabulousness.
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