I’ve done it. The teenage thing. Party on Saturday…no frock (well, none that I want to wear)…so make one….
I’ve burned the midnight oil, neglected the children, said ‘sod it’ to the domestics and made a dress. As far as I can see, the only effect has been slightly goggle-eyed children but they’ve been fed and I’ve managed a few words of parental guidance during the past 48 hours. It feels a little like those 7 day dancing competitions in the ’40s….an endurance test with scant sleep and hurting bits.
Anyhow, it’s an LBD of which no woman can have too many. Just the slightest difference in neckline or length or fit can be enough to be either perfection or disaster for a particular event. It’s burlesque for me this weekend and although this dress looks formal, it’s a snug fit, reveals just enough shoulder and plummets at the back. Just need fishnet stockings and a red lippy….
The quality of the photographs is a bit suspect but it’s dusk and there are heavy purple skies and that odd yellow light that you get in a storm.
I’m looking forward to wearing this: even the Boy said that I looked ‘dashing’. Perhaps not the adjective I’d’ve chosen but better than a grunt and a fine word indeed for an 8 year old.