Hugh and I are planning to attend an upcoming Policeman’s Ball. It’s a black tie affair which means that Hugh will be renting a monkey suit and I will be wearing an evening gown. The only problem with this plan is the fact that I don’t own an evening gown. I own several old bridesmaids dresses, a few sparkly cocktail dresses and one especially low-cut number that was sold to me by a saleswoman who assured me that it was “desperate wives” quality, whatever the hell that means but; there is no evening gown in my wardrobe.
Obviously this means that I have to go shopping.
The last time I shopped for a formal dress, I was eighteen and the prom was just around the corner. I have no earthly idea what to look for in a formal gown now and days and, I fear the process will be ugly. Ok, maybe not quite as ugly as standing under the glaring fluorescent lights of a changing room in a new two-piece but, ugly nonetheless.
On the bright side, a new dress means new shoes and, despite my dislike of dress and swimsuit shopping, I rock the shoe shopping; it’s a pity it couldn’t be a formal shoe ball, clothing optional because, the policemen would make a fortune on that event and, it is for charity, after all.
Think of the children.
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