Having finished my errands on Saturday afternoon, I decided to walk past Whistles. I usually enjoy window shopping/wandering round Whistles and Monsoon for the excellent reason that as nothing in their ever fits me, I am safe from regretting that I have no occasion to wear*/shouldn’t spend money needed for other things on their very nice if often slightly OTT confections. Hence I had no fear when I sighted the 1920s ivory thing in the window and decided to try it on. After all, it couldn’t possibly fit.
It fit. Not first time, but once the assistant had pointed out that I had it on back-to-front, it fit. It looked fantastic, too. However it also looked as though I could model for a 1920s school story illustration, probably the chapter in which the girls are dressed up in semi-Greek tunics in order to dance and sing for the Queen of May at the summer fête. Madeleine Bassett would have thought a little bit soppy. I did not buy the dress.
*Because I don’t go to many garden parties in the Indian Empire.