Every Wedding After-Party Dress I Tried on in My Search to Find "The One"
From a Gatsby-esque midi to a simple slip, here's everything I tried along the way.
Reported by Vogue.
There is no law that says a bride has to wear the same dress from ceremony to last call. In fact, the smartest thing you can do on your wedding night is give yourself permission to change — to shed the structured gown, cue the DJ, and slip into something that actually lets you move. One Vogue editor did exactly that, spending a full day trying on nearly a dozen after-party dresses across SoHo boutiques and online orders, searching for a look worthy of her Hudson Valley, June wedding: outdoor, bucolic, romantic — emphatically not Miami bodycon.
The parameters were specific: nothing too stiff, nothing too nightclub, and no hard commitment to white. At Prada, a linen mini delivered the right hint of sexiness without tipping over into it, while a crystal-neckline slinky midi caused both the editor and her saleswoman to loop the word pretty in disbelief. Toteme offered two compelling directions — a silky camisole-and-midi-skirt set ideal for showing a little stomach on a sweaty June night, and a tweed racerback with a swinging skirt better suited, ultimately, to a candlelit dinner date than a dance floor. At Bode, the vibe shifted entirely: dusty patchouli, antique mirrors, and 1930s-silhouette dresses that felt like breaking into a very glamorous grandmother's wardrobe. The beaded flapper shift had serious Gatsby energy — heavy in the best way, like fashion armor — but the plaid halterneck maxi was better filed under wedding guest.
The Contenders That Almost Won
Dôen, a perennial wedding-guest favorite, proved equally compelling for the bride herself: the floral-appliqué Adelia mini had the exact disco-ball energy the evening called for, while the Junia — a lace-cutout, high-neck silk slip — was so comfortable it felt like cheating. Chloé delivered two surprises: an aqua high-low with so much volume it made the editor feel like a pop star in a wind machine, and a swingy babydoll mini — inspired by Alexa Chung's now-legendary purple Chloé moment — that somehow worked on a frame usually wary of ultra-short hems. Each was a strong contender. None was quite the one.
That title went to an emerging New York designer: Colleen Allen, whose silky column dress closed the case. Described as sliding into an old nightgown — fabric so supple it floated, hemline slightly ethereal — it was the dress the editor couldn't stop thinking about after the try-ons ended. Sexy but not obvious. Simple but not forgettable. The kind of thing made for dancing barefoot until someone turns the lights on.
According to Vogue, the after-party dress isn't an afterthought — it's the dress you actually remember wearing.
Read the original at Vogue.
