UPSTAIRS AT THE PARTY

The time is running out and I’m still nowhere near finding THE dress for the upcoming season, which would double as a cocktail dress and a dinner in Paris (that’s a special category in itself) dress. Basically, a dress that I would love and wear all season long, and beyond. It has to be pretty special.

I grabbed lunch today with my friend at High Street Kensington and we lazily browsed around shops. There were tons of dresses – and all really appropriate for all the occasions I mentioned (save for dinner in Paris). Yet,  there was no chemistry between the dresses and me. Nada. Zilch. They were a pretty bunch but that’s it.

Having checked out Karen Millen we sauntered into TK MAXX, where downstairs there are a few racks called Gold Label, selling discounted designer stuff. Whilst I was marveling at a nude Alberta Ferretti gown, which was too big and too long but still dreamy stuff, I noticed a girl carrying a yellow silk dress into a fitting room. The skirt was made of layers of what looked shredded silk, which fluttered behind her.  The top was a weave of silk scarfs, each one twisted several times into kind of a rope. It was a long gown but still a slip of a dress. It was party and fun and elegant, but not serious at all. The nude gown suddenly seemed cumbersome.

 

I carried on browsing but the dress would not leave my head. After a few minutes I marched towards the fitting rooms. Excuse me! – I was suddenly determined – there was a girl carrying a yellow dress a few minutes ago? Has she returned it by any chance?  The assistant gave me a blank look but kindly let me in to check. There was no dress. Has she left? I demanded, but there was no-one in the fitting rooms. (I once got to a shop after it closed but could see the sales assistants still inside. I kept banging on the door for so long that they let me in and sold me the bag I wanted – to make me go away I think). I marched upstairs towards the tills, looking for a girl carrying yellow dress. No sign of her. What would I have done if I found her? I’m not sure but I was so desperate that I might have come close to wrestling the dress form her.

 

But perhaps you couldn’t wear it to the dinners in Paris, said my friend. Oh, but I could! Only I would wear it with flats.

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