The Annual Performance of Looking Festive

Every December the same question reasserts itself: what do you wear to things. Not just any things—the specific category of Christmas things, which occupy their own fashion territory somewhere between "smart enough for the aunt who notices" and "willing to acknowledge that tinsel is technically a material." It’s a narrow corridor and most people I know navigate it badly.

The honest version of Christmas dressing is that almost nobody actually looks good at it. The people who try too hard look desperate. The people who don’t try at all look like they resent being there, which they probably do. The sweet spot is some kind of knowing participation—the sweater that’s slightly ironic but warm, the jacket that says you considered the occasion without fully capitulating to it. Effort, measured. Memory of what these parties actually feel like: overheated rooms, cheap mulled wine, someone’s entire coat collection piled on the spare bed.

I haven’t solved it. I keep showing up anyway.