24. 11. 09

A Girl Wants...

To praise the LBD.

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Its a common scenario. You've just rushed in from work. Your flat is a mess, your wardrobe is a mess and you are a mess. You've got to be at this drinks party in a London bar (of the swanky type) in under an hour. Your eyes flit from the shower, to the pile of dirty laundry, to your make up dashed across your dressing table. The makeup is in such a mad disarray that you question what exactly happened the last time you used it - did it insult you? You pick things up in a fluster: tooth brush in one hand, hair spray in another. You ambitiously clutch a MAC mascara between your lips even though you know it's gone gloopy and leaves your lashes looking like tar. But what to wear, what to wear?!
Then you see it. It's jauntily hung up in your wardrobe. Your good faithful, your weapon of choice in the face of danger. You throw it on. Suddenly the room starts spinning and when it stops, everything seems to have been put back into order. Your makeup has even crawled its way back into your makeup bag. At least you think it has, but does it really matter? The point is, you look incredible and nothing else seems to matter any longer. A sweep of blusher, a stroke of mascara and a blotting of nude, matte lipstick and you are ready. You walk out of the door, slipping into your black heels and grabbing your leopard print clutch. You make it to drinks and everyone comments on how good you are looking. Thing is, you don't need to be told and that's the beauty of it all. The dress speaks for itself. You make a mental note to wear this dress more often, but you find that you never do. Its a love hate relationship. When you have all the time in the world to get ready, you loathe it. When you have minutes to spare, you love it. But that's the appeal and that's what keeps you coming back to it again and again...