In Disguise at an Afternoon Tea

Denver Herb Society hosted an afternnon tea Sunday. I was invited and went in disguise.

I disguised myself as a person who habitually attends Sunday teas given by a Society, attended by women "of an age" with a passion for beauty in their environment.

In this case gardening -- a kitchen garden, an herb garden, a cut flower garden. In short, plants are tended and nurtured and then, at the right time, brought inside to eat, beautify or scent the house with a garden's abundance: herbed quiches, garden pea salad, green beans in varieties not found in the grocery store, intimate flowers like bachelor buttons or wedding lace, irises in spring that smell like grape Kool-Aide.

I imagine these ladies sit outside in their garden amongst the plants and enjoy. I can see a chair or bench, a little overhanging branch that dapples the ground with shade in midday, paving stones to walk on without disturbing tender growth, and a small cast-off table on which to place the steaming cup.

In truth, I see myself in this vision.

So how does one dress for a tea party with this in mind? I carefully tried on every flowered, flowing dress in my wardrobe in combination with sensible stylish flat shoes and matching hat.

It was not the shoe or hat that created the imposter in the mirror but the dress.

It was not the hat. I wear hats all the time without apology. When I turned thirty-three I determined I was not waiting until fifty to wear hats. I love hats.

It was not the shoe. I have small and very wide feet so comfortable and stylish shoes are my passion. A search for the proper shoe is always an excuse for a shopping foray. Size six very wide, please.

A flower dress. A simple bodice with a sweeping skirt in a lovely floral print. Or -- a flutter sleeve print dress in supple silk. Or -- an ombre broomstick dress, soft and flowing in crumpled pleated crepe, a full twirl of a skirt. Hand wash. Block dry. Imported fabric.

I have a small collection of these. When was the last time I wore one? I cannot recall. Perhaps I have never worn them except in front of a mirror in my bedroom. If I had a garden, would I sit in that dress under a tree with a cup of tea in my hand? Oh, what a lovely vision.

No. I would be in my flannel pajamas and garden clogs with a sweater that does not match pulled over my shoulders against the chill of the morning. In the heat of the afternoon I would kick off my high heels and strip off my nylons and lounge in my straight skirt and silk top with the jacket thrown just anywhere. In the evening I would be in comfortable casual pants and a too-big tee shirt, laughing over my shoulder at something my husband related about the day's work. I would be drinking coffee in the morning, diet coke in the afternoon, and single malt scotch in the evening.

But not in a flowered dress with flutter sleeves.

So I presented myself in disguise at this Sunday afternoon tea. I wore a pencil thin, mid-calf skirt with wide-brushed tan hieroglyphics on black linen, a silk knit top in taupe, a black crop-waisted cashmere sweater, square-toed 2 1/2 inch high heels, a black wool tam o'shanter with mink tossle and black sweater gloves.

I had a wonderful time. I enjoyed everyone I met and the food was delicious.

I was however asked on more than one occassion, you are a guest, right?