I think it would be totally worth it to rent an expensive tuxedo just so I can crash a super-elite party in the fancy-pants, snob-pile part of town. I would straighten my posture and throw around smoldering, if not very creepy, looks. And of course I would speak in a gentle, British accent and often make references to my personal assistant, Dominic.
I would do all of this just to see how long it takes them to find me a fraud and kick me out of the party. The best part? I could try the same thing the following week and attempt to break my record.