What’s ‘What The Frock’? Upon compiling feedback for Frock & Roll, the undisputed winner of the ‘What Would You Like To See More Of?’ competition was “style” photographs of what I was wearing. (Gosh, who would’ve thought?!) I find this both utterly astonishing and magnificently terrifying, particularly as I believe that I have roughly the same amount of fashion credibility as say, a dish cloth. BUT! You ask, and I deliver!
Your good luck wishes and don’t-trip-over-your-dress thoughts on Friday must have worked, because guess what?! I didn’t take a tumble in my bridesmaid dress at the wedding I attended on Saturday night, hooray!
THANK-YOU. I did wade through the bride-to-be’s dog’s bowl of water with it, however, and walk into a seating barricade in front of everyone at the church, but, then again, the newly qualified preachers did forget to instruct the bride and groom to kiss eachother, were wearing sneakers underneath their business attire, dropped their speech cards numerous times, forgot their words and asked the photographer for cues about the traditional sequence of events involved in official wedding procedures (because it was only their second wedding and weren’t sure of them!), so it was an interesting event all around!
And then there was the reception. Oh, the reception! It was beautiful. Except for the fact that I absolutely can’t dance and apart from while cleaning the house and listening to KC & The Sunshine Band or when in the company of my sister, I generally avoid it. But that certainly wasn’t going to happen on Saturday night, oh no! At least six people attempted (and succeeded!) to drag me onto the dance floor and I stumbled about and twirled awkwardly like I imagine a seal might if it was thrown into a similar situation.
“I can’t dance!” I would wail to my boyfriend/the groom’s brother/the bride’s brother/the bride’s cousins/ex work colleagues. “Yes you can,” my boyfriend would insist. “EVERYBODY can dance, dance is just an expression of rhythm!” “Yes, and I have expressed my lack of it MANY TIMES!” I would cry. “Why can’t you dance?!” The groom’s brother/my wedding partner asked me. “You’re a woman, surely you can dance?” The poor guy. I didn’t want to squash his stereotype of the perfect woman by admitting that I can barely microwave a packet of noodles without them flying everywhere, let alone complete the waltz or anything, so laughed and shuffled about to Aerosmith’s I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing while thinking about how slipping over in my high heels would 100% complete the embarrassment trifecta instead.
x Very high hair and a goofy expression! Curse you, locker that contained my handbag (and thus, my camera) for most of the night! If it weren’t for you, I would definitely have more photos, and possibly one with a less silly expression. Possibly. In other unimportant news, I think I need a haircut. Fringey is reaching so-long-that-I’m-almost-blind status.
x Blue chiffon dress, Alfred Angelo
x Second-hand faux fur jacket
x Diamante` hair pin and jewellery, gifts from the bride
x Silver bridal heels, Ebay
How was your weekend?