Long-time readers of this blog will recognize this dress. I bought it over a year ago, mostly on impulse (it was a great deal and just too cute to pass up) and have been waiting ever since for my opportunity to wear it. And – ta-da!! That opportunity had finally come. I call it my (season 1-2, still married-to-Don) “Betty” dress: an early 60s silhouette with a debutante-appropriate neckline, but updated with an oversize houndstooth print.
I was all set for the party … and, of course, I just had to go and upset the ol’ applecart. See, I had an appointment to get my hair cut two weeks ago … and instead of simply getting my ends trimmed, I decided to switch things up. As in finally get the pixie cut I’ve been debating for the last 6 months. It was a spur of the moment decision (spurred primarily by my son’s recent discovery of the entertainment value of hair-pulling), but I’m thrilled with the results. Still, I wasn’t sure about the pairing of my new haircut and my original dress – the cut is a bit more Mia Farrow than Betty Draper, if you know what I mean. By now, it was too late to hit the stores without getting into the dreaded last-minute dress shopping panic, so I had to try to pull something together from my closet and hope for the best. I’d like to think that this is more of an Audrey Hepburn look.
Of course, the complications haven’t ended there. As of last night, I’ve been down for the count with a vicious cold that’s been felling family members right and left. Judging by the trajectory of their illness, my attendance at this Saturday’s party may be in jeopardy, sadly. But, eternally optimistic, I’m not giving up hope … which still leaves me with a choice to make. Decisions, decisions.