outfit invention: from moscow with sunglasses

It's not often that I compare living in Washington, DC -- the supposed Capital of the Free World -- to living in Moscow, Russia -- the Capital of, um, this -- but to put some of the events that happened last Saturday night into perspective, that's exactly what I'm going to do. I know, apples-oranges, peas-carrots, crack-cocaine, etc. It's not the best comparison, but it's somethin' so let's just go with it for now.

One of my friends' and my main traditions back in our Moscow days -- during Putin's first term, mind you (hi, I'm old) -- was "outfit invention." This wasn't merely putting together a good-looking ensemble for an evening on the town. No. This was putting together an epic costume for an evening/night/early-to-mid morning on the town. To give you an idea, some of our top outfit inventions in Moscow included themes such as "Gay Hitler," "We're Wearing Wigs," "I Look Like a French Whore," "I ♥ Putin," "I ♥ the USA," "I Procured My Entire Outfit in an Underground Crosswalk*," "Young Turks" and "This Is What I'd Look Like if I Worked on a Collective Farm." More importantly, however, we topped off nearly every outfit we invented with the piece de resistance in Moscow circa 2003-2004 -- sunglasses at night.

Dressing to go out in Moscow really was an artform. Having not been there since 2006, I can only hope that it still is. Oh, slava bogu, it is!

Anyway, dressing to go out in DC has generally proven the opposite. If I decide to wear heels I feel like I get looks of scorn from people thinking I'm being pretentious by skirting DC's retarded nighttime shoe of choice, the ubiquitous flip-flop. (Certainly these said looks of scorn can't be attributable to my general aura, which is clearly effervescent and bubbly...)

However, last weekend, when one of my old Moscow buddies came down for a visit, we decided it was time to get back on our retardulous loshad' and return to our outfit invention roots. Luckily, I had an idea in mind -- "I'm a Monochromatic Asshole."

Privyet! Monochromatic Asshole!

As it just so happens, another tradition of ours in Moscow that we decided to bring back Saturday was to flip the good ol' American bird to any camera lens pointed our way, which means most of our photographic footage is unusable at worst and in need of creative cropping at best. It also means we're jackasses. But alas, those self-fulfilling circumstances aside, what we have here is the reincarnation of my Forever 21 romper, paired with my oft-talked-about American Apparel metallic gray stirrup tights. The accoutrements are pretty basic -- Boutique9 black suede open-toe mary-janes and a 1980s-inspired black pleather shoulder bag bought somewhere in Amsterdam in 2004.

The shiny shot!

I ended up wearing this O.I. out to what has become in the last two weeks my favorite haunt in DC, the Rock & Roll Hotel. Not only do a lot of sweet bands play here, but the upstairs bar is pretty tight with its own DJ booth and dance floor, well-priced beverage station and lots of little side rooms to sit and chat. I must say, however, the bathrooms are a tight squeeze, especially when trying to get in and out of a romper. Too much information? Deal with it.

But whatever. A contorted 15 minutes spent making sure no part of that silky romper touched anything with fecal matter on it (yep, I just said that) as well as three attempts to re-button the whole damn thing up in the dim lighting is a small price to pay to chillax (yep, I just said that too) at a place where people not only recognize a good outfit invention when they see one, but they even appreciate it. It also helped that at least half of the patrons that night were gay men. They're always so encouraging.

And, of course, to top off our Moscow throw-back night, we resurrected Moscow's super-trend from the dead. No, not drinking until we woke up in an undisclosed location in Butovo, but wearing sunglasses at night, sillies!

Risky business'ing it (Wayfarers from Target; bought last summer). To keep with the monochromatic theme I put this in black & white. And, um, also, I wanted to mask my bright orange Sparks lips. They're kind of embarrassing. As is drinking Sparks when you're 28. Two weeks in a row. I'm not a quick learner.

*Also known as Viktor Perekhod.