I thought I had outgrown my days of dress up. I love clothes, but have gotten more practical with age (buying hiking boots instead of high heels). But last weekend’s Jazz Age Lawn Party on Governor’s Island made me want to shake out my feathers and shimmy. I went with Bobby, who looked like a real 1920s gent in his white pants, suspenders, linen waistcoat and hat. Sitting under the trees, watching everyone peacocking about, doing the Charleston and listening to live jazz created a mood as light and effervescent as champagne.