Why Getting Ready for a Party Is My Favorite Part of the Night

It’s 8:14 p.m. and I’m sitting on the bathroom counter with one eye done and a playlist I’ve been tweaking since Tuesday.

My friend is on the bed, sorting through four pairs of earrings like a jeweler appraising a tray of diamonds. Someone’s phone is propped against the mirror, playing a song that is, frankly, too loud for a building with thin walls. Someone else is eating crackers over the sink. The party is forty minutes and one rideshare away, and nobody is in a hurry to get there.

I’m going to say something that might sound ungrateful. This is the best part. Not the party. The getting ready.

I’ve started to suspect I’m not alone in this, and that there’s a real reason the hour before a night out can feel better than the night itself. So I went looking, and what I found made me stop apologizing for taking forty-five minutes on eyeliner.

The Part Nobody Posts About

Think about what your camera roll looks like after a big night. Group photos at the venue. A blurry video of someone’s cousin dancing. A picture of a cake.

Now think about the hour before. Almost nothing. Maybe a mirror selfie with half a face and a curling iron in the corner. The most alive hour of the evening goes largely undocumented, because we’re too busy living in it.

That’s the thing about this stretch of time. It has no audience. Nobody is watching, nobody is grading the outfit yet, and the night hasn’t had a chance to disappoint you. The party can still be anything. The dress can still be the one. The night is a closed door, and you’re standing in front of it with a really good feeling about what’s behind it.

Once the door opens, reality walks in. The music is too loud, the drinks are warm, and your feet start filing complaints by eleven. None of that has happened yet in the bathroom at 8:14. Everything is possible, and you’re holding a lip liner, maybe wondering if tonight is the night for one of those red dress outfits.

Why Looking Forward Feels So Good

There’s a Dutch word for this feeling. Voorpret translates roughly to joy or pleasure ahead of the fun event itself [2].

Researchers Leaf Van Boven and Laurence Ashworth studied how anticipation affects emotion, and one thing they found is that the emotional effect of looking forward was stronger than the effect of looking back [2]. In five studies, people rated future events as more exciting than past ones, and the researchers concluded that “the enjoyment people glean from anticipation might also be an important component of life satisfaction” [2]. In plain terms, some of your happiness comes from what you’re about to do, not from what you already did.

A separate set of studies points in the same direction. Psychologists Amit Kumar, Matthew Killingsworth and Thomas Gilovich found that waiting for an experience, like a concert or a trip, felt more pleasant and more exciting than waiting for a material purchase, which tended to come with impatience [3]. In one experience-sampling study of 2,266 adults, people thinking about an upcoming experience reported more happiness and excitement than people thinking about something they were going to buy [3].

I want to be careful about what that does and doesn’t prove. None of these studies looked at getting ready for a party, and I’d never claim eyeliner has been scientifically ranked. But a night out is an experience, and the stretch before it is pure anticipation. It makes sense that the preparation would carry some of the best of it.

You’ve felt this even if you’ve never named it. The good part of a vacation is often the week you spend planning it. The good part of a first date is sometimes the outfit crisis that comes before. The anticipation is not the warm-up. It’s part of the event.

The Ritual Has a Shape

Once I started paying attention, I noticed that my getting-ready hour follows a pattern so consistent it could be a recipe. You might have your own version, but I’d bet it has the same bones.

The Playlist Comes First

Before a single product is opened, the music goes on. Not just any music. A specific kind that makes you feel slightly more confident than you actually are. For me it’s a mix of old pop songs I know every word to and one new song I’m pretending is old.

The second the first chorus hits, you’re someone who’s going somewhere.

The Mirror Conversation

Every getting-ready session has a moment where you look at yourself and have a quiet chat. Sometimes it’s a compliment. Sometimes it’s negotiation, like “Okay, the left side needs work.” But you’re looking, really looking, with a bit of tenderness and a bit of intent. Most days we glance at ourselves on the way out the door. This is one of the rare times we take our time.

The Outfit Swap

At some point, the outfit you planned stops working. The dress is fine but the shoes are wrong. The shoes are great but the top is too much. Suddenly you’re on your third option and your friend is holding up a jacket and saying, “Just try it.” Half of my favorite outfits were never the plan. They were the swap.

If you’ve ever dressed for a party and realized you’d completely misread the vibe, you’re in good company. These wrong occasion outfits are a very funny reminder that getting dressed is a guessing game, and the swap is part of how you win it.

The Small Detail

Last comes the thing nobody else will notice. The perfume on your wrist. The ring you’ve worn since college. A pair of earrings that make you stand a little straighter. If you’re deciding between a few, a quick gold-or-silver test against your outfit can settle the argument in about ten seconds. It’s a tiny decision, but it feels like closing a deal with yourself.

Getting Ready Together Is Its Own Kind of Armor

Here’s where it gets more interesting. A lot of us get ready with other people, and that turns out to matter.

In a piece on female friendship and pre-party rituals, sociologist Anna Akbari said, “Pre-partying is very validating” [1]. She also pointed out a difference in how people approach it. Women tend to focus on the preparation and the group, she said, while men often treat the drinking as the main event [1].

I think that’s right. When I’m getting ready with friends, we aren’t really waiting for the night to start. We’re doing something that has its own value. We compliment each other’s looks, borrow things, fix each other’s zippers and say the encouraging stuff out loud, like “You look incredible, stop fixing it.”

The same article describes how getting ready together can give women a sense of belonging and support, especially in settings where they may feel watched or pressured about how they look [1]. A bandmate quoted in the piece, Caroline Partamian, said, “As long as I surround myself with my friends before a party, I feel good and grounded” [1]. Her bandmate Courtney Gray put it more simply: “It gets our vibes in synch with each other” [1].

There’s something almost ceremonial about it. The article even mentions a history professor who compares it to the way friends help each other put on armor in ancient Greek stories, a way of lifting each other’s courage before heading out [1]. I find that oddly moving. We’re not that different from people who strapped on bronze. We just have better lighting and a Bluetooth speaker.

I should note that the article leans on expert commentary and personal stories, not a formal study, so take it as a thoughtful observation rather than proof. But anyone who has stood in a bedroom while a friend says “That color is perfect on you” knows what it feels like to be sent out the door with backup.

Getting Ready Alone Counts Too

Not everyone has a friend group in the bathroom, and not every night out comes with an audience. Some of my favorite getting-ready hours were solo, with nothing but a mirror, a playlist and a very strong cup of tea.

Alone, the ritual changes. It becomes quieter and a little more private. You can try the red lip without commentary. You can stand there for twenty minutes deciding on a hairstyle with no one tapping their watch. If you’re going on a date, you might spend that time on a look like these dreamy romantic hairstyles, because there’s nobody around to tell you it’s too much.

What I like about the solo version is that it’s a small act of self-respect. You are taking time, on purpose, to look the way you want to look and feel the way you want to feel. Nobody asked you to. Nobody will thank you. You’re just doing it because you’re worth the effort, and that’s a rare thing to practice.

How to Make the Getting-Ready Part Even Better

If you want to squeeze more joy out of this hour, here are the changes that made the biggest difference for me.

Start Earlier Than You Think

The fastest way to ruin the ritual is to rush it. If you start at 7:30 for an 8:00 rideshare, the whole thing becomes a sprint, and a sprint isn’t a pleasure. Give yourself an extra thirty minutes. Even if you don’t use them, you’ll feel the difference.

Choose the Outfit the Day Before

When you pick your clothes in advance, the getting-ready hour becomes about the fun parts, like hair, makeup and music, rather than the panic of an empty bed. You can always swap on the night. But you’ll swap from a starting point, not from nothing.

Build One Playlist and Keep It

Make a mix that belongs only to this hour. Over time it becomes a cue. The first song comes on and your whole body knows what’s about to happen, a bit like a pregame ritual for an athlete. Mine now has forty songs on it and I’ve changed maybe three in a year.

Add One Thing Just for Fun

Maybe it’s sparkly eye makeup. Maybe it’s an extra-bold lip. Maybe it’s a pair of earrings that make no practical sense. Something playful and a little extra makes the ritual feel like play rather than prep. If you need inspiration for a night where the glitter is the point, these sparkly makeup ideas are a good place to start.

Invite Someone Over

Try bringing a friend, even if you’re used to going solo. One person sitting on your bed with a snack and an opinion is enough.

When the Night Can’t Live Up to the Prep

Sometimes it doesn’t. You spend two hours getting ready, you arrive, and the party is just fine. The music is too loud, you don’t know anyone, and you’re home by eleven wondering what all the fuss was about.

It happens. And honestly, it’s a decent argument for treating the getting-ready hour as the main event instead of the opening act. If the night turns out flat, the hour before still happened. You still laughed in the bathroom. You still got a great compliment, still found the perfect earrings, still felt like someone worth getting dressed for.

I’ve even had nights where I never made it to the party. A friend canceled, a ride fell through, or someone decided the couch was better. We were already dressed and glittering, so we ordered food and had the best night of the month in full makeup, in the living room. Nobody photographed it. It was perfect.

Keep the Part That’s Yours

If you take one thing from all of this, let it be permission. Permission to take your time. Permission to love the mirror hour, the bad snack, the playlist and the pile of rejected tops on the bed.

The party is going to happen with or without you, and it will probably be fine. But the hour before is yours alone. It’s a small ritual of becoming the version of yourself who walks out the door, and you get to decide how good it feels.

So put the song on. Do the eyeliner twice. Let your friend choose the earrings.

The best part of the night might already be happening.

Sources

1. Refinery29. “Do you want to come over beforehand and we can get ready here?” (includes comments from sociologist Anna Akbari and members of the band Scully.) refinery29.com/en-us/pre-gaming-female-friendship-bonding-rituals
2. Fast Company. “The Dutch secret to boosting joy every day” (discussing research by Leaf Van Boven and Laurence Ashworth.) fastcompany.com/90660499/the-dutch-secret-to-boosting-joy-every-day
3. Kumar, A., Killingsworth, M. A., and Gilovich, T. “Waiting for Merlot: Anticipatory Consumption of Experiential and Material Purchases.” *Psychological Science*, 2014. PDF copy