There once was a Doll who had a soft spot for making an outfit the occasion. For example, attending the opera, because apparently that’s trending now. Or at least dressing like it. To be fair, any combination of satin and fur deserves a standing ovation.
Hi. It’s me. I’m the girl. Ahem, Doll.
And I have news: the rest of the world has finally caught up. Drama is back. Grand entrances are back. Draping yourself in lush fabrics like satin, sheepskin are the reason for the season. It’s called the Opera Aesthetic, and I’ve been rehearsing for this role my entire life.
Act I: Places, Please
Picture this. A velvet-lined opera house. Gilded balconies. That hush right before the lights go down, when everyone is pretending they know what the show is about. Silk gloves, golden binoculars on a stem. Is that a mysterious character wearing a mask? OK, swoon. Roses tossed onto the stage.
Now take all of that romance and put it in your closet.
That’s the Opera Aesthetic. It’s lavish. It’s a little theatrical. It’s dressing like the curtain is about to rise, even if the only audience is the valet. Is it practical? Don’t care. It’s literally giving all the feels.
A little Fashion History Lesson before we raid the costume department. The Met has a silk-and-fur opera cape by French designer Jacques Doucet from around 1890. A century and change later, here I am draping ivory shearling over pink satin and making exactly the same case for a dramatic coat. Imagine having a coat specifically for going to the opera. Now imagine me trying to get through all of December without finding twelve other places to wear it.
Act II: The Costume Department
You don’t need a ticket to the Lyric Opera House to pull this off. Although the Chicago destination is undeniably iconic. You just need a few pieces that walk into the room before you do.
- The luxe coat. Worn over the shoulders. Never on. Arms are for holding champagne, not for sleeves. You’re not late, you’re making an entrance.
- Satin, satin, satin. A slip gown, a skirt, a blouse with that liquid shine. If it doesn’t catch the light, did you even get dressed?
- The cummerbund. Yes, the thing from your prom photos. It’s back, and this time it went to finishing school. Cinch one over a gown or a crisp white shirt and wide-leg trousers.
- Feather brooches. A little flutter at the lapel, the neckline, the clutch. It’s giving swan. It’s giving coquette. It’s giving second act.
- The satin pouch. Fits one lipstick, one key, and absolutely nothing else. That’s the point. Someone else is carrying the snacks tonight.
- Pearls and old-world sparkle. Drop earrings, a delicate pendant, a stack of gold bangles. Heirloom energy, whether or not anyone actually left them to you.
- Stage-ready beauty. Set waves, a rosy flush, pink on the eyes. The no-makeup makeup look has left the building and taken its tinted moisturizer with it.
This particular cosume department was filled with wildly talented artists with excellent taste. And what a team to play dress-up with!
Makeup: Zariana @_muazarinakarpyshy
Hair: Anatolii @hair_mkt_
Florals: Fleur D’amour @fleurdamour_flowers
Photography: Evseeva @photographer_evseeva
Styling: Caitlin Jecklin @onceuponadollhouse & @dollhouse_social
Act III: Opening Night
For my debut, I went with the softest, most romantic version of the drama. A blush pink satin slip gown with ivory lace trim and the sweetest little lace bow right at the bodice, like it was tied by a fairy godmother on her lunch break. Over it, a cream fur coat, draped and trailing, because I have never in my life wanted to look more like I was about to be handed a bouquet.
Then the jewelry box opened: pearl drop earrings, a diamond pendant, a stack of gold bangles that announce my arrival from two rooms away, and rose-gold peep-toe heels for the walk across the marble. Waves set. Pink on the eyes. Pink on the lips.
Some girls have a signature scent. I have a signature color, and it’s pink, and it’s not up for discussion.
Shop the look:
- Satin lace slip gown: [this dress may be my whole personality]
- Cream fur coat: [it’s actually luxe sheepskin and I’m obsessed]
- Pearl drop earrings: [shop similar]
- Rose-gold heels: [they are literally called Me Dolly]
Act IV: Make Your Entrance
The holidays were basically written for this. A few stages worth gracing:
- The holiday cocktail party. Satin gown, coat on the shoulders. You will be asked where you got it. Pretend you can’t remember. Mystery is part of the costume.
- The symphony, the ballet, the opera: The most literal way to wear it, and the only place where clapping for yourself is technically allowed.
- New Year’s Eve. Feather brooch, cummerbund, the whole production. Go big or go home, and if you go home, go home in the coat.
- Date night. Satin pouch, pearls, a red lip. Watch him wonder what the occasion is. (The occasion is you.)
- Hosting at home. Candlelight, drapery, a vase of blush roses. Your guests walk into a scene. You walk in last.
- School pickup. Kidding. Mostly.
Curtain Call
There’s something a little magical about getting dressed like it matters. Not for anyone else. Just because the evening deserves it, and so do you.
And so the girl in the blush satin gathered her coat, fluffed her waves one last time, and stepped out into the night, where she lived dramatically ever after.
The end. Bow. Exit stage left. Trail the coat.