A Bit of a Do

I’m looking wistfully through some lovely dresses. Dresses which are lovingly wrapped in tissue and are, for most of the time, stored away out of reach. The dresses all belong to me and I have a little tear in my eye. Why so sad? (as the hooker said to Michael J Fox in the Film “Bright Lights Big City”).

(Why such sad film trivia knowledge? – but that’s another post.)

You see I have some lovely dresses, bought in a fog of positivity and hopefulness, with the budget pushed to its limits, and nowhere to go in them. I never seem to be invited to the sort of functions which require the men in “Black Ties” and ladies to complement this with a dazzling array of sparkling, floaty evening gowns. I admit to going to many a great gathering where jeans are the norm, much drinking and fun is to be had and wouldn’t miss them for the world. But just once, wouldn’t it be nice to go to some fancy event where I could put on a posh frock, put my hair up and pretend to be sophisticated for an evening?

Not actually being trained in etiquette and the ways of the posh, I suppose it’s quite likely that I would disgrace myself by spilling red wine down myself, tripping over my dress or eating one too many canapés. I know of no men who would be seen dead in a black tie (or any other type of tie for that matter.) I’d probably try to talk to someone like Posh n’ Becks and find them dreadful bores. I might even drop off to sleep with the sheer tedium of it all although I doubt that Posh n’ Becks would notice. They’d be too busy worrying about who was noticing them. All in all I would probably have had an awful evening but at least I’d have got to wear one of my good frocks.

My horoscope (which of course I don’t take too seriously) said that today I would “have to let go of one of my dreams”. I think perhaps that this might be the one. Posh functions are perhaps not really me, so I will pack the dresses away again until the next time I feel the need for a little wistfulness.