I always hate being poor, it's never good to be poor unless you can get a best seller out of it, but I really, really can't stand not having money when it's to do with a dress.
Heels, bags, even dare I say it...hats, and underwear, just don't grip me the way that the right dress does. Underwear comes close, don't be mistaken, underwear has my passion but 'that' dress comes along so rarely, and when it does it hurts, it's in the air, on the scent of perfume lingering beside the mirror...I want it.
It's usually red, the last one was red. This one was like a dark, dirty tease. It flaunted itself in front of me when I shouldn't have even dared stray over there. Crisp, bold, seductive...a strapless, sleeveless Basque of plunging heart neckline dipping lower and looser than I've gone before, wrapping tightly into a breathless waist and then hitched high enough for a pair of 5.9 legs with little heels added on, to slip out all the way down. Then comes the magic, not for the untrained eye of design: a beautiful ornate cascade of transparent lace tumbling down the back, the illusion of length contrasted against the leg demonstration, what a show, what a con, what complete distraction! All that leg, bare shoulders, half a back and cleavage to crash a jumbo jet. Statement black (not usually my colour) black isn't a colour, it's the absence of light, this treasure is not for light of day, it's for dimly lit chambers and not for a shivering virgin but a seductress of temptation. Gold lingers underneath, the merest hint, like a few bronze coins in a bottomless purse. This dress is a 12 but a 10 would really scream, it must be a 10! I must be a 10 to be worthy of such a dress. Nothing could be left to chance, a golden-bronze bag, black heeled shoes (not such a statement as to draw attention away from that neckline) and perhaps some sort of prettiness in the hair, hair that must be curled and must be swept up with a regency air of demure defiance against such a dark piece.
I've thought about it at least every day for a flicker of a moment since that first viewing. It's been a while, the red dress seems more of an embarrassed blush, ashamed at the immodesty of this new piece, the red dress has no leg, it has no back or shoulders, it is in a word: uncertain. Uncertain of its own potential...but this black and golden cascade is far more confident than I am, sometimes the dress can make the woman if she is willing to act a part...I need this dress. I wont be at peace until I own it. This dress has seduced me! It must have the power to seduce a pair of brown eyes somewhere in a crowd.