The Frock Has Landed...

Okay, I've finally cracked it. Dragged my poor teenage son to Covent Garden this Saturday (who says there's a recession on the way? the place was heaving) and finally found my posh frock in Hobbs on Long Acre. Narrowed it down to a sleek black silky cocktail dress and a lipstick red taffeta type confection with a swirly skirt and plunging cleavage — neither of them strapless of course as I totally chickened out on that one.

So my choice was, should I go to the RITAs as a buxom Audrey from Breakfast at Tiffany's or a slutty Marilyn from The Seven Year Itch. No contest really, had to be Marilyn the slut. Although I won't be attempting the skirt flying-up thing she did in that movie - I feel my magic knickers might ruin the magic there a tad....

Have to say the saleswoman was a total pro, not only did she flog me the dress she also persuaded me to buy a black silk wrap-jacket thingy and gorgeous winkle-picker black-suede sandals — I stood firm at the clutch purse though. Enough is enough, right? After all I've already spent more money on this little jaunt than I've earned on all my books put together so far... Still, it's an investment for the future. Who knows when they'll remake The Seven Year Itch and need a woman of a certain age with more cleavage than sense to star in it...