Subjecting myself to a 1920’s themed birthday party tonight. I don’t mind theme parties if they’re cheap enough, or vague for you to get down and creative with pipecleaners and sparkles on a cardboard box. I’ve successfully managed to avoid the other kind, those who require expensive cocktail dresses at exclusive venues (that still only serve beer and house wine as part of their tab) that you can never wear again because ‘darling, people talk.’ Managed to find this knee-length dress for $7 at my local shop, but currently in the mindset of:

thehilltheviewandthelights: haha it doesn’t look too bad
colporteur: it looks like my grandma tried to make me a dress inspired by an accordian and accidentally set a bedazzler to high speed.

I hope the next party I attend doesn’t have some golden-age thinking wherein wearing ____ from ____ era is better than now because ‘girls were more prettier and boys were more handsome’ and girls didn’t have the vote and men boys would be in complete positions of household power, and I wouldn’t be allowed to avoid a glass of your cheaply red wine out of respectability.

God, I just hate parties.