Music Dinner

I have a bit of a dilemma on my hands. You know that music dinner I mentioned? The one that I bought that super awesome dress for – which I went and collected from the tailor today and fuck it looks good – and that I’ve been looking forward to for a good month now? Well, I’ve just discovered that something else is on the same day, and suffice to say it’s not something I’m looking forward to in the slightest.

It’s my nan’s funeral next Monday.

I don’t really know what to do. I’d like to go to the dinner, and I think it might be nice to do something cheerful to perk myself up a bit. But on the other hand, I don’t want to go and spend the whole evening being sad because having to socialise with people isn’t really necessarily what’ll be good for me. So I’m torn.

The thing is, I almost never go to these things. I ducked out of the dinner and the boat party last year, and I didn’t go to the end of year thing, so I kind of want to go just to make up for that. I’m umming and ahing and I don’t really think I’m likely to come up with an answer any time soon. That’s ok though. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t go, I guess.

Maybe I’ll just have to see how I feel next week or something.

Dress for Success

In a few weeks I’ll be going to the first formal dinner I’ve been to in probably a year. It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities for formal dining, because there have. There have been quite a few (I’d hate to be more specific, so I’m going to be completely non-specific: a few) but I’ve turned them all down. And the reason for that is simple: dress code.

It’s amazing how much of a role the dress code plays. In this case, the ever vague “formal”, which I took to mean “ladies wear dresses, men wear suits”. I can honestly say, hand on heart, I would literally rather punch a bear than wear a dress. OK, maybe I actually wouldn’t rather punch a bear, but you get my point. Dresses, as far as I’m concerned, are the work of a greater evil than I can comprehend. Why would you even do that? What’s the effing point?

My objections to dresses run from the simple “where the flip am I meant to put my phone” to “my legs are literally cold” to “I hope nobody minds a flash of my armpit hair”. There are quite a few objections to having to wear a dress. In my humble opinion, a dress is as much a practical suggestion as a banana wearing sunglasses. Cool, maybe. Sensible, no.

Now, I acknowledge that some of my issues with dresses could possibly be solved by tights and a sturdy razor. But frankly those are torture devices in and of themselves and only serve to compound the issue.

Which is why I’m so thrilled to have (finally) found a dress I can actually bloody wear.

eliza j dressLook at that. A dress with sleeves. SLEEVES. Good god I think I might have just found the perfect dress. Apart from two tiny things, it’s great.

the first is that it’s actually quite long, isn’t it? A bit taller than me. So high shoes may well be in order.

And the second is that it doesn’t entirely fit in a billowy sort of way, so I’m having to get it tailored otherwise things could get a tad embarrassing when I sit down. or lean.

all things considered though, this seems like the answer to all my prayers. So to speak.