New Years Glad Rags

Hello, hello!

Well, we're one day into the new year-- how's it treating you thus far? I think I overdid it a little last night with the surplus champagne from NYE; my head's ringing like a bell this morning! So far, so bad, 2014. However! I did have a wonderful last-night-of-2013, and it just wouldn't fitting for me not to show you the clothes Matthew and I wore for the occasion! 

Tuesday night I got home from work around 6, ate approximately four stuffed grape leaves, and started tearing my hair as to how to outfit myself for our evening's activities. We had 7:30 dinner reservations with friends at Antica (a swank tapas place in the 5th and Main building), and I thought "sure, I'll just throw on [insert one of many known fancy dresses in my closet here] and call it a night". Unfortunately, over-indulgent eating habits during this, my married life, have swelled my waistline not enough to quite drive me to tears (we gotta put on the brakes, though! Resolutions!), but enough to make all my nipped/belted/teeny dresses just a liiiiiitle too little. One black, fifties', taffeta dress fit flatteringly and was fancy enough for the occasion, but all black? On New Years? I was having an epic one of my wardrobe pouts when, in one thunderous flash, I saw this outfit in my mind's eye.

Inspiration? I was thinking New Year's Eve 1913 rather than New Year's Eve 2013-- the dress is from Phoenix Flea Market as described in this post (ah! slimmer days! We'll get back there though!), and features hand-stitched lace detail all over the red taffeta and tiny snap buttons all the way down the back (no joke!) from neck to waist. Tattered in a few places, I just wore a heavy underskirt for volume and modesty. The hat is from Rare Bird Antiques, and the black fur mantle from an estate sale. 

Matthew, I sent into his closet and went "pick something fancy!". He came out with this ruffled tuxedo shirt, tuxedo jacket, and cummerbund (the bowtie's in the pocket, but doesn't it look cooler un-bow-tied?). Nicely played, Bab! He looks like a tiny Vegas gambler in the sixties'. I so heartily approve of this outfit that I'm still having a high-school-crush-like rush of affection looking at it now.

With the clothing situation under control, we were free to rush down Gallatin Road to keep our dinner plans. I'd never been to the Fifth and Main building-- it's a combination of businesses and apartments in east Nashville, the last retail outpost before you reach the James Robertson Bridge and downtown. There's a subterranean parking deck that impossibly connects, via two separate elevators, to disparate locations in the complex, and we spent some time trying to figure out exactly how to get to the restaurant (you felt like you might have to fight Morlochs or other underground people before finally reaching "the above ground" land, it was so complicated). At one point, I was standing in a hallway checking my makeup in my old compact while Matthew asked the hostess in another restaurant how to get to our intended one-- some people stepped off the elevator and by their whispered asides, I'm 80% sure they thought I might be a ghost or some costumed historical interpreter. Le sigh. I say go hard or go home! The restaurant, when located, had a nice atmosphere but tiny, tiny portions, even for a tapas setting, and an almost criminally indifferent wait staff. We had a good time anyway because our dinner companions were hilarious (a married couple we've known forever and don't see nearly enough of. Resolution #2!). We swung by their house for a cocktail, then our house for another, and finally went to a party at our mutual friend Ben's house, out next to the old Cornelia Fort airport (which looks so spooky at night!). There, they took this coat-room photo of us:

I told you, the ruffles on that thing were serious! Also, at this point in the evening, my hat has migrated south on my head. I kind of like it better that way! Some of my coworkers and fellow East Nashvillians were at the party, so it was neat to get to see them outside of a work setting (and introduce them to Matthew-- I swear, I do have a life outside of this Church Street building!). We drank, ate really delicious little appetizers, petted a dog that kept wandering through the party and placing herself obstinately in central walkways, and generally had a grand time. Someone brought up Django Unchained, which always looses a torrent of Tarantino-related anecdotes that I can't just keep to myself (esp. when alcohol is involved). I tried, in spite of the champagne handicap (-4), to explain the plot of the political spaghetti western Compañeros ("No, seriously, Jack Palance is crucified in the desert by his enemies, then his pet falcon chews one of his hands off so he can free himself...I am not making this up..."), and even spoiled what's in the coffin that Franco Nero's titular character drags into town on a chain behind him in Django (for shame....for shame, Lisa). It was a fun night, all  in all! At midnight, we counted down to the New Year:

And gave each other a smooch:

I'm still not sure how this picture was taken....did someone else take it? Did Matthew take it? Again, it was a fuzzy night at that point. Why do we look like we're angry kissing? I don't know! Happy New Year, folks!

We stayed for a little longer, I talked to Ben's mom, Charli, about antique dresses, and Bab reminded me at some point that it was 12:30, and he had to be at work the next day at 8:45 (what kind of places makes you work the morning after new years! Have they no humanity?), so we said our fond adieus and hopped in the Cube. Matthew drove us back home, I ate my remaining two grape leaves (ah, sweet, sweet Greek food), and went to sleep. A good night!

How did you spend your new years'? Did you have a crazy fabulous ensemble? Made any good resolutions yet? You know I'm working on my list as we speak! :)

Have a great Thursday, I gotta get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow for Photo Friday! Be good, and we'll talk then.