IN A BLACK-TIE BIND

By Ellen Donker

Our families have gone formal

By the time you are read­ing this, my husband Rob and I will have at­tended the wedding of his cousin’s son. Ordi­narily, the preparation wouldn’t have been hard. Rob would wear a suit and I would find a dress either in my closet or newly pur­chased. We had just done this in July for a wedding in Boston.

All of that was nullified when we re­ceived the invitation: it was a black-tie affair. Of course, I knew this meant that Rob needed to wear a tuxedo. For me, I suspected that the occasion required a floor-length evening gown or at least something elegant. Some Googling confirmed my hunch.

I’m pretty sure I haven’t worn a long dress since my wedding many moons ago. My life is not very fancy. Working from home for too long will do that. Although I will occasionally wear a dress, I am decidedly out of practice in the art of dressing up.

For starters, where does one go to find a long dress? To the mall seemed the most expeditious answer. Fortu­nately, my friend Joanne offered to go with me to Short Hills. As the mother of the groom for a summer wed­ding, she also needed to find a dress.

The two of us started in Macy’s and compared notes on the size we’d need, the styles and colors we liked and the fit that worked for us. Then we grabbed armloads and headed to the dressing room. None of the dresses worked for us, but we began to zero in on what we liked.

We repeated the same exercise at Nordstrom, shar­ing in the frustrations of other dressing room occupants who were struggling to find “the dress” for their spe­cial occasion. Eventually, I tried on a very heavy, beaded dress that fit well and looked suitably “black tie.” I only needed shoes to deem it a done deal.

For my husband, we thought the drill shouldn’t be too hard. Although he once had a tuxedo, probably from our wed­ding, he had given it away. Over the years he had slimmed down and was long past what my daughter calls his Goldfish days, when after a long day of work he would lean against the pantry door and eat many handfuls of the orange snack.

We had a choice: buy a tux, rent one, borrow one or thrift it. The latter was my son Christian’s recommendation. He has an eBay business curated from thrift stores and says they always have lots of tuxes. The only problem is that 2nd Av­enue Thrift, our go-to in Union, separates the jackets from the pants. And they have no changing rooms.

When Rob and I went there last week, I told him I intended to be relentless once we found a jacket. I would go through every size dress pants until we found the matching pair. It was a good plan, but it didn’t work. Before we left, I called Christian. He said to move on, but he had an idea. Rob could wear his tux. He would send his Brooks Brothers suit and all the accoutrements (thrifted, of course) from Washington D.C. that day.

Problem solved!

But wait, we just got another invitation in the mail for my niece’s wedding in November. It prominently notes: “black tie required.” What is happening with Gen Z? Is formal wear a thing for them or is it just that my family is trying to level up?

Luckily, I’m safe to repeat my dress choice as this af­fair is on my side of the family. But Christian is also invited and will be the one wearing his Brooks Brothers tuxedo.

Once again, Rob will be on the lookout for a tuxedo. So, if you know someone who is 42R with size 34 pants …. Never mind. He can rent it this time.