You guys, I loved - LOVED - my wedding dress. It was a true work of art. It was a handmade, unusual, extraordinarily beautiful, flattering, and made me feel like I was floating around the entire day that I wore it. It looked like this:
(I'm the one in the middle, wearing white.)
But then, after one perfect, astonishing day, it was packed back up into its box - forever? When else would I be able to wear 20 pounds of beads and feathers? But, on the other hand, how could it just go unworn from that moment on, a one-use thing like a plastic fork? That seemed like a terrible choice, so I took my dress to a fantastic dressmaker and asked her to split into two parts: a top and a skirt. I don't have excessive call to go to fancy galas, but surely at least one or two would happen sometime.
And, lo, last April, we did get to go to an honest to goodness black tie event at the Barnes Foundation. I did the Sharon Stone thing and paired the drop-dead skirt with a simple tee:
Flattering, magical, floating perfection. Continued bell-of-the-ball effect. It was a wonderful night.
Now, if only I could ever fit back into that beautiful beaded top...
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