I Wore Black to a Gatsby Lawn Party

The Great Gatsby lawn party took place on my birthday weekend during an August heatwave at a nearby period mansion by the seacoast. This is one of my favorite historical periods, and I had a dress ready to go.

The last time I wore that dress was on New Year's Eve several years prior. It was black, fringed, and came with a feathered headdress. I even researched how to do my makeup the way women did back then.

I was ready. I missed the detail that it was August. In a heatwave.

We arrived a little late so had to park at the bottom of the hill. We didn't realize we could have paid extra money for VIP parking at the top of the hill. That was strike one.

We arrived at the top of the hill after what felt like an hour, but was probably only ten minutes. My chair, beverages, and food were heavy. Beads of sweat had formed at my hairline, dripping into my hair.

My sweat already started drying on my sunglasses, leaving salty splotches of white on the lenses. I took them off, blinked a few times, and felt like I had truly been transported.

In front of me, I could see the grounds surrounding the gray stone mansion. People were smiling, laughing, and actually dancing in their light-colored period clothing.

I fingered the black fringe on my dress and felt a sense of dread. I wiped some sweat off my lips and some ruby lipstick came off with it. I could see it streaking my fingers.

I had made a horrible mistake with this dress.

Trying to shrug it off, we set up our chairs under the only patch of shade that was left on the property. Most of the smart ones had brought lawn tents, solar fans, and cooling mist to spritz on their faces. What I wouldn't give for some time in front of one of those fans.

Were solar-powered fans part of the Roaring Twenties?

I settled into my chair, unscrewed the top of my water bottle, and took a sip of what I hoped would be cool water. It was warm, at best, but I mostly felt relieved that I had made it to the top of the hill without falling over.

My eyes settled on what was going on around me. It was a beautiful event! People dressed in period-inspired costumes. Most ladies had parasols, a detail I hadn't considered.

Of course, why would I have? I was in an evening dress made for winter!

I decided to ignore my discomfort and get into the spirit of the moment. The band was playing somewhere above me. Somewhere below me, people had gathered on a patio that used to house a swimming pool to take Charleston dance lessons. The thought of dancing in this heat caused me to break a fresh sweat.

Everyone looked like they belonged. Not many people looked as hot as I was.

I studied the women around me. They wore pale-colored dresses in loose fabrics. They tilted their parasols against the sun. Even the hats suddenly seemed less like costume accessories and more like equipment.

My period makeup took a long time to apply. It occurred to me that I should have checked the weather first. I should have researched a weather-appropriate costume. What did people wear to a lawn party?

My dress was made for that New Year's Eve party. The other women seemed to understand instinctively that this was not the occasion for it.

I hadn't even thought about it.

That was the moment that I accepted that I had dressed completely wrong for the occasion. I had to let it go.

I decided that I may as well enjoy myself.

I stayed close to the shade, drank as much water as I could, and watched the party unfold around me. People danced. Others wandered the grounds taking photos. Every so often, someone would walk past in a beautiful pale dress and parasol, looking completely composed.

I was not composed.

By then, my hair had started to lose the battle, springing up from the roots as the frizz defied gravity. My makeup was a bit runny, and it no longer looked like it did when I left the house. I slowly wandered the grounds, finding shade when I could.

Still, I was having fun.

That alone made things funny. That I was having fun. Yes, the heat was miserable, but the setting was beautiful. The music, the dancing, the mansion, and even the heat. Somehow it all worked! It really did feel as if I had stepped into another time.

I just wasn't in the correct outfit.

I learned something that day that my research couldn't have told me. There is a huge difference between dressing for a decade-based theme, and actually dressing right for the occasion.

It got hot in the Roaring Twenties, too. I hadn't even stopped to wonder what women back then wore during heat waves.

The next time I find myself at a Great Gatsby lawn party in these conditions, I will wear lighter fabrics and colors, and I will definitely bring a parasol.