I have been struggling for 30 years to cope with the fact that my 16-year-old son came down to a formal dinner party dressed in a tatty old ball gown he found in the attic and wearing enough makeup to frighten a witch doctor. The guests were all well-behaved and said nothing (except behind our backs, of course) but the family reputation was ruined and I’ve been despondent ever since. Is it too late to re-establish myself as a hostess of quality? My cucumber sandwiches are still as elegant as ever.
Mortified Mom in Matawan