This week in her regular weekly column, Flaming Nora shares the shock of buying a frock...
I can’t remember the last time I bought a dress. Hang on a minute, let’s have a think. Ah yes, got it. It was 2003 for my brother’s wedding when I bought a silk flowered confection that’s so beautiful I still sometimes take it out of its wrapping in my wardrobe to look at it, although I’ve never worn it since. So as you can imagine, four years on from my last purchase of a dress, the reason I’m blogging today is because I’ve just this lunchtime walked out of a shop with a dress in a bag and a smile on my face and I think I’m still in shock.
I only nipped out at lunchtime for a sandwich but I was in one of those drifting, meandering moods thinking of clothes I wanted to buy for my upcoming summer holidays in Andalucia. So there I was, window shopping and drifting, thinking of cobbled Spanish streets scented with orange and I found myself trying on three different dresses, just for the heck of it and ‘cos I had time to kill.
The first two frocks made my hips look the size they really are (enormous) so they were disregarded - but the third one, my favourite, that’s why I’d kept it till last, fit like a dream. It’s knee-length and sleeveless, in cherry red linen, a colour I adore, with an embroidered delicate flower pattern across the bust. This bit is oh-so flattering and it takes ones eyes away from the er, hip area, and upwards to an area I’d be quite pleased to show off.
As I stood in the changing room looking this way and that, I knew immediately I had to buy it. A whopping £50 had been knocked off the price for the sales but still, for someone like me who usually buys £4.99 tops from New Look and trousers from Next for a tenner, it was expensive all the same. I knew I couldn’t walk out of the shop without it. It was the sort of dress I could eat tapas in, go sight seeing in and take for an evening walk on the beach when the sun sets and casts a pink light over the little unspoilt Spanish resort we’re heading back to quite soon.
“That’s a beautiful dress” said the shop assistant as I handed over my card at the till. I murmured my agreement and as I left the shop she said: “Enjoy wearing it and have fun”. And do you know what, I think I just might. [Flaming Nora]
Flaming Nora is editor of Corrieblog
