My day 16 frock was a no-brainer. Always easy, always pretty, this one.
Actually, there was this one time when it wasn’t very pretty. I’d been out for a run that morning and stacked it hard. Both knees pissing blood, both hands with embedded gravel. But you know when you’re out running, you get adrenaline flowing and you feel no pain. So I completed my 10km run and then got home and noticed I looked like I was on one of those zombie walks with elaborate face/limb painting. I had to go to the chemist and buy every kind of bandage and antiseptic cream available and sort myself out. I should note, I wasn’t wearing the pretty dress at this point. Then that night, I went to a swing dancing night at the Austrian Club and I wore this dress. It’s just right for dancing, all stretchy and flowy and pretty. But just beneath the hem of my pretty dress were these two horrific knees, with blood and pus oozing through my bandages, and the bandages were having trouble staying in place because of my enthusiastic dancing. It was ugly. This dress deserves better.
It probably deserves better than to be dragged out to The Peel in the early hours of a January morning last year to dance to S Club 7 too, but let’s not go there.
To get this look you’d have to travel back to Preston about nine years ago and find this in the Salvos near where I used to work. It’s a dress that hasn’t stopped giving, ever since. I team it with my eastern suburbs granny shoes. They go with everything!