On my way to Zac's I pass a posh frock shop and the dress is currently in its window.
It's strapless and full, in a deep shade of wine red. It's a princess dress, a dress of a little girl's dream. (Or maybe a slightly bigger girl.) It's beautiful and I want it. For no reason other than to be a princess and to dance at a ball. And to run away when the clock strikes midnight.
The closest I ever came to wearing a ball gown was to an event with Husband's work a few years ago. (And incidentally, Husband laughed when he saw my fluffy thing.)
It's nice to go glam every once in a while.