Stamford on a saturday afternoon – and a visit to my current fave market stall. The woman who sells her own eclectiic fashion, hand-picked and imported from various Italian fashion houses.
The stall, enclosed for fairly obvious reasons of modesty, is almost always doing a roaring trade, a constant stream of Stamfordian ladies in and out to see what is new, what’s in since last week.
Me, too. These are beautiful creations. Bright patterns. Intersting drapes. Different cuts. Clothes that echo some of the more interesting pricier offerings on the High St – but at a fraction of the price.
So even if i don’t buy, i try.
As i did this saturday. A gorgeous diaphanous chiffony dress: not unlike one i bought a week or so back. But that bit more see-through.
As i worked out the moment i slipped it on over my bra.
(What? You think i’d disrobe in public and let it ALL hang out? huh!).
However, it doesn’t work with a bra…at least not with anything that leaves a line or patttern under the material. First, because the entire bra is wholly visible through the top. And second, because it was cold.
er, nipple-freezing cold.
“I think you’ll find that would work better with a cami top”, the stall holder observed drily. Ye-es. I rather think she has a point. I’ve obviously not (quite) got the hang of underwear. Yet.
Still, i’ve come a fair way since last summer’s disaster. A ripped cotton white skirt which could only ever be worn with a slip.
As the friend i was with at the time observed only after i’d been out and about in public for the best part of an hour. Mortified. Utterly.
I shall probably get the dress. I shall definitely be wearing it WITH sensible undergarments.