We all have one. It may be a classic LBD, or a floor-sweeping gown, or a patent-leather micro-mini-dress, but we've all got that dress we wore back in the day that made us feel SEXY!
When you put on The Dress, you transform. You are no longer Mild Mannered Student/Bartender/SkipDiver - you are SuperStudent/Bartender/SkipDiver! You have Powers. Real Magical Powers. Men are putty in your hands, and women all either hate you or want to be you.
My own "The Dress" as shown here was a cheeky black and white number with Madonna-inspired cone boobs and pop snaps all the way up the front. The fact that my first boyfriend bought it for me in the spring of 1990 in Paris is just wanky and cliched enough to add to its power. Holy shit, that's nearly 20 years ago, and I still have this dress. Other dresses have come and gone, and I haven't even worn this one in at least 14 years, but I won't part with it. It's a bit faded, cobwebby and far, far too small for me now, but it's still with me.
I can remember quite clearly each and every time I wore The Dress. Nightclubbing in Paris, a corporate do somewhere in Texas where I was the youngest one there by a good 10 years, and one memorable drunken session where I felt compelled to drag my sister and her boyfriend out the back of a local bar and flash them. This dress was made for flashing, by the way, and it's a bloody miracle I only did it once (that I can remember, anyway).
Another thing about The Dress in general is that we don't lend it. That's a hard and fast rule with The Dress. It is ours, all ours, and we like it that way. My sister was so impressed with the flashing incident that she asked to borrow it so that she could also flash people when intoxicated and I very rudely refused. I think she's over it now. Hopefully.
I even remember my mother's The Dress in the early 70's. It was truly hideous by today's standards, but she loved it. It consisted of a large-collared acid yellow blouse with a quilted floor-length multicoloured skirt and matching quilted handbag. I remember being about 4 years old, watching Mum get ready to go out. She rarely wore makeup, so watching her pile on the frosty blue eyeshadow and pink lippie was a real treat. I still get flashbacks when I smell Madame Rochet (or something like that).
My god, how did fashion survive the 70's? I must see if she's got a photo of this memorable outfit - it truly is one in a million. Actually, her mother made it for her, so it's an haute-couture original!
Right, enough waffling; I am overcome with an urge to try on my dress again...