That Little Black Dress...

Lets face it, for most of us the chance to wear an LBD conjures up notions of Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly or Jackie Kennedy. For me it causes panic, as mentioned a couple of blogs ago, "I'm On to Me."

The image I have in my head of what I hope my middle age, five foot self might look like never quite measures up to the reflection in the mirror. I either look like I'm playing dress-up, swallowed by apparel meant for a fit model of 5'10, or just trying a little too hard.

Perhaps I don't browse enough. Daughter has given me strict instructions to take a day or two 

out of each month to mingle among the racks. It does always seem like there's more to choose from when you don't need anything at all. I'm typically more of an "as needed," type of shopper. If I can't see the use for something, no matter how chic, amazing or adorable, I won't even try it on. Why bother? If I purchase it now, it might be out of fashion by the time I need to wear it. 

I'm just not one for buying items with a short shelf life. Thus my desire to look for classic items that I've romanticized in my head, but hard to find in real life.

This is frivolous fodder for sure, (and isn't nice to have moments of frivolity), but we women do like to make up stories in our head about what we will wear, where we will wear it, who we will be wearing it with, as we throw back our heads in raucous laughter, like we are having the time of our life, all because of some amazing frock. Our fantasies are not only relegated to clothing. I can make up an entire scenario for a lighting fixture or drink coasters.

Anyway, if you are wondering what I wore to the wedding two weeks ago, it was a black, tea-length, cocktail dress I've worn multiple times, that I bought for a wedding ten years ago, which we never attended, because Husband and I both had the flu. I guess I owned a classic after all. Go figure.

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