Black tie for canapés and cocktails? How uninviting

Recently, I received a cocktail-party invitation from a large retailer. Buried at the bottom were three words that, in this post-lockdown era, always elicit an audible groan from my now-unmasked lips: “Dress: black tie”. Did the hosts really mean for guests to come in a dinner suit (men) and a long gown (women) – which is the purest definition of the dress code – at 6pm on a winter Wednesday night? Or did they mean to write “No denim”, in which case, why not say just that?

Ah, dress codes, those curly-wurly words that can throw even the most assured of dressers into a fishtail-hem spin. What’s the difference between “cocktail” and “formal”? In a world where sneakers are acceptable office attire, what does “smart-casual” even mean? And what in heaven’s name is “lounge suit”? I’ve never figured it out, either.

On paper, at least, black tie is pretty straightforward. Pre-pandemic, I could probably count the number of bona fide black-tie events on the social calendar on one hand (Brownlow, Dally M, Logies, NGV Gala, plus the odd society wedding). Now, the number of black-tie invitations gracing my inbox is out of control. It’s as if people are no longer content with just being able to get together again: events must be elevated to “gala” status.

I love a party as much as the next gal, but please don’t make me dig out my ball gown every time you whip out a tray of canapés. Taffeta isn’t the natural antidote to trackpants; just because we can black tie doesn’t mean we should.

And so, in the spirit of New York Magazine’s Urban Etiquette Handbook (example, “If someone’s wearing a mask, don’t ask why”), I propose this simple, “Is black tie really warranted here?” checklist:

1. Are guests expected to stand the whole time? If so, the answer’s no.
2. Is the event at a time that allows “normal” people to adequately prepare? I’m not talking about influencers, who are often paid to be preened by an army to attend parties. I mean “normies”, those of us who have to shimmy into a full-length dress in the office toilets. Black tie at 6pm on a weeknight? No thanks.
3. Are you just doing it for the ’gram? Get with it. It’s all about TikTok now, anyway. Melissa Singer

Tips for nailing a black tie brief

Accessorise

Accessorise your way out of having to buy a new frock like Kate, Princess of Wales. She wore the same McQueen dress to the 2019 and 2023 BAFTAs, updating her most recent look with earrings, opera gloves and a new clutch. This Olga Berg “Bianca” bag, is an affordable start, plus the brand has been black tie-approved by many celebs, including Kate’s favourite sister-in-law, Meghan.

Where to buy: Olga Berg “Bianca” bag, $90. Christie Nicolaides “Daniella” ring, $319.

Hand-draped design

Hand-draping fabric on a mannequin is the starting point of the design process for Australian fashion label Acler. Unlike digital design, this technique, widely used in luxury couture houses, zeroes in on a garment’s shape and movement.

Where to buy: Acler “Rosella” gown, $695 (pre-order).

Let it flow

If the idea of formal wear is so burdensome you’d rather just stay home, consider a flowing look in a luxury fabric. Carl Kapp’s draped taffeta sateen dress works just as well on the red carpet as at a stylish garden party. It’s also a great silhouette for plus-sized party-goers who quail at the prospect of exposed arms. Style with strappy heels and bold jewels for the evening or a pair of well-made flats for a daytime do.

Where to buy: Carl Kapp “Lindera” dress, $2495; Camilla and Marc “Vigo Heel” Sandals, $350 (on sale); Fairley golden seashell drops, $299. Anna-Lisa Backlund

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