The Perfect New Year’s Eve Party

In another life I’m the hostess with the mostest.

This New Year’s Eve party would be a gathering in a city apartment, with black helium balloons and champagne bottles on glass tables serving as the only decorations. I’m picturing: Gauzy curtains from ceiling to floor. Flute glasses sit atop one another to create a pyramid of sorts, filled to the brim with the bubbling, golden liquid. Cupcakes with black and white frosting, sprinkled with silver balls, set on mirrored trays. Miniature disco balls hung haphazardly—the New Year’s rendition of Christmas mistletoe: stand beneath one of those mosaic balls and you willget kissed at midnight.

Dress to impress, but under one condition: black only. We want vixens ready who’ve already planned out 2011 sans the cliché of making resolutions. Vixens in unapologetic minidresses, or sharp-shouldered blazers with only lacy La Perla beneath, stomping to Eric Prydz in ankle boots. Dressed to kill, with a sequined Miu Miu, Michael Kors watch to check the minute hand, and bright pink lips. Leaving behind only that pink lipstick as the last memories of 2010: on champagne glasses, on paper napkins, on the cheeks and necks of other party go-ers.

And as the Manhattan countdown begins, lights dim off and strobe lights behind those chiffon curtains pulse to the rhythm of the final 10… 9… 8…

. . .

bises! x