When my daughter was in college, she spent a couple of summers working at an upscale resort. This resort was so fancy that it had a dress code: after 6:30 p.m., guests in all public areas of the main hotel were to dress in “elevated evening attire.” No shorts or denim permitted.
I visited my daughter on one of her days off, and we decided to enjoy a fancy, upscale dinner in the dining room where she worked so hard the rest of the week. We donned our appropriately elevated evening attire and headed to the lobby, where we noticed a tall man in an intense conversation with the maître d’. The tall man was wearing blue jeans, and it was clear that “no denim permitted” was about to be strictly enforced. The maître d’ shook his head. The tall man heaved a sigh and turned to leave.
When he turned, my daughter recognized him immediately: He was a moderately famous Hollywood actor. Clearly, this dress code was strict—a real live celebrity could not even get a pass. My daughter and I, appropriately attired, swanned our way into the dining room, feeling very pleased with ourselves, our clothing choices, and our windowside table. We never knew where that moderately famous actor ate dinner, but he did not eat with us, oh no. Not in jeans.
