Dress Code
Formal eveningwear is required — tuxedos, gowns, and tailored suits — styled as though you’re attending a glamorous Hollywood premiere in 1930s Los Angeles, but this time the queer underground finally has the spotlight. Expect velvet, satin, sharp tailoring, dramatic silhouettes, statement jewelry, and confident gender play. Come cinematic. Come bold. Come unforgettable.
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And please, do not worry about upstaging the brides. That would be impossible.
Black Tie meets Old Hollywood Realness
Arrival Instructions:
In keeping with the traditions that inspired this evening, entry to our celebration will follow a small ritual. Upon arrival at The Oviatt, you will be directed to an elevator. The attendant in the elevator will be expecting you — but only if you know what to say.
To gain access to the Sewing Circle speakeasy, you must tell the woman in the elevator:
“I’m a friend of Dorothy.”
Without the phrase, the doors will not open.
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This is, of course, theatrical — but it is also intentional, as we want all of our guests to feel immersed in the queer history that came before us, and paved the way for our love.
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The phrase “friend of Dorothy” emerged in the mid-20th century as coded language within the LGBTQ+ community, as a quiet way to identify one another in a time when being openly queer could cost someone their career, safety, or freedom.
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The exact origins are debated. Some trace it to Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz, portrayed by Judy Garland — an enduring queer icon whose resilience and longing for “somewhere over the rainbow” resonated deeply with generations of LGBTQ+ people. Others suggest it may have referenced writer Dorothy Parker, known for her sharp wit and rumored queer circles. Regardless of its precise beginnings, the phrase became a subtle signal of belonging — a way to ask, safely, “Are you one of us?”
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It was language born of caution, but also of connection.
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On June 27th in Los Angeles, the very city where so many queer lives were once forced into silence under the studio system, we use the phrase not as a shield, but as a tribute. A nod to the sapphics of Old Hollywood who gathered quietly in living rooms and back rooms, building their own Sewing Circle long before it was safe to do so openly.
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For one night only, the doors open with a password.