Cocktail dress
March 23, 2007
Hello Possums. When was the last time you frocked up?
Here in Melbourne, our racing carnival in November is a must occasion for a frock. And of course, as you know, I have recently been to Sydney for a 40th Birthday cocktail party. A new frock was in order for this occasion also.
My two eldest daughters are now of ages where they enjoy a spot of retail therapy. This is a very unusual thing because when they were younger I had to almost force them to come shopping just to buy essential clothing items. Now they are constantly asking me if we can go shopping, and its me who’s getting sick of it.
Its a totally different kettle of fish, however, if its for me that we are going. So I was very excited when we headed out to Richmond for the expressed purpose of picking me out a frock. Sydney is generally hotter than Melbourne, so I decided that a strappy number would be suitable. The timing for shopping in Melbourne for strappy summer dresses couldn’t have been better – all the summer sales were on!
The girls are old enough now to choose clothes for themselves. So when we arrived at our favorite clothing store, we all just spread out and met back at the change rooms with arms full of clothing each. This particular store has a communal change room: one large square space with full length mirrors and hooks alternating around the four walls. We each found hooks of our own and began trying on our collections. As I slipped into my various dresses, I had to pause occasionally, and make a comment in response to,
What do you think of this, mum?
The usual response: Nice, how much is it?
The first dress I tried on was tight around the waist and difficult to zip up. Could you give me a hand with the zip, Rosie? I sucked the tummy in and tried to imagine spending a whole night in it. The colours were great, and it had interesting straps made with the fabric twisted and knotted. The skirt hung well. Rosie said she liked it (although she wasn’t super enthusiastic), and I was tempted but just couldn’t imagine being comfortable in something so tight.
The next dress was cream in colour (not usually a colour I would choose, but you can’t always be choosy at sale time, your choices often depend on which sizes they have left). When I tried this one on, Rosie became animated. Ohh, that’s beautiful. You should get that one! It looks great on you, mum.
I looked at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t an image I was used to seeing. This dress was a very young style, almost cutesy. It was strappy and tightly fitted to the waist, had a bow that tied at the back and a flouncy skirt that was hemmed using an open lace design around the edge. I wondered if my 43 year-old face and this youthful dress was too much of a contrast.
Oh, Rosie, do you think I look silly in it? Be honest. Is the style too young for me?
No, mum. It looks great. You should get it.
I felt reckless when I took the dress to the counter to pay for it, along with a beautiful blue dress Rosie had chosen for herself. Not only was my dress a style I would not normally have chosen, but Rosie’s dress on sale cost a small fortune. It was a moment of weakness, Possums.
When I put the dress on in my friend’s bedroom in Sydney it felt wonderful. Here I was, excited about the party and being away from my family for the weekend, pleased to be spending quality time with my good friend D, but as I find with most moments in my life these days, it was emotionally layered. Words cannot describe the warmth I felt. I was alone in that bedroom, but connected to my family in Melbourne as if Rosie was there with me saying, you look great mum! I didn’t care what anyone else at the cocktail party thought of my young dress. It was infused with more meaning than I could ever have hoped to explain.
I heard people arriving for the party. Already D would be serving cocktails. I burst out of D’s bedroom, just as the the chorus to New York, New York came on: If I can make it there, I’ll make it any where. Its up to you, New York, New York. So grinning from ear to ear, I stepped out, in time with the music, and performed short, low kicks as you do and received a cheer from D and her friends.
Later in the afternoon a group of people arrived and one of the women was wearing the exact dress with the knotted straps that I had tried on first in Richmond! The dress looked great on her. Much better than it did on me, in fact.
PHEW. A fashion disaster averted! (Thanks to Rosie).
I’m glad to hear you loved your frock so much. I can imagine that shopping with my daughters will become that much fun one day. Right now, it’s a mad dash for the essentials and out again.
I’ve just bought a purple lace dress for a wedding. I’m completely in love with it.
How fun, a wedding! I haven’t been to one for ages. 40th birthdays are the trend here.
Is it a formal occasion or will you be wearing the jeans under the purple lace?
It’s formal, more’s the pity. I would love to wear jeans underneath. I am exploring the possibility of wearing velvet trousers though …
Sounds nice. Purple velvet, I presume.
I love the way they can now make velvet trousers with a bit of stretch – v comfy and look great.
[...] with our dear friend D. She lives in Double Bay. In Melbourne, I rarely shop with friends. I often shop with my daughters and that’s lots of fun, but I hadn’t shopped with friends since I was a teenager. We [...]