The internet is a trove of individual retailers selling all kinds of things – much of it dross, but sometimes you happen upon a diamond in the rough.
The other day I was idly looking for an evening dress. My sister is getting married in May – not six months after she was proposed to on Xmas eve: she doesn’t hang around. Her dress, naturally, is a secret – but it gives nothing away to tell you that it’s an evening wedding – black tie – and so I was looking for something long and gorgeous.
The other day I was idly looking for an evening dress. My sister is getting married in May – not six months after she was proposed to on Xmas eve: she doesn’t hang around. Her dress, naturally, is a secret – but it gives nothing away to tell you that it’s an evening wedding – black tie – and so I was looking for something long and gorgeous.
I stumbled across Roman Originals where I immediately saw and fell in love with this beautiful bias cut gown for a truly amazing £30. I have to confess I waited with baited breath for it to arrive – half expecting it to be made of lining fabric and held together with pritt stick, but no – it’s a good quality item. Pleasingly, it’s a deeper teal colour in the flesh, and not quite so shiny. Bias cut (where the grain of the fabric goes diagonally across the garment) is flattering because it skims across lumps and bumps – but only to a certain extent. I ordered the 18, and while I can get it on and done up, it will look infinitely better with a stone less ballast and some very supportive undies.
I also like it because of the sensible wide straps – perfectly placed to cover a balconette-style bra – where the straps are wide set. The structured cups are showstopping, but capacious enough to make me feel secure. My next task is to find a matching bolero.
But that’s not all. Tantalisingly, the site offers free delivery if you spend £40 so I set off on a little browse to see what else took my fancy. I don’t think I’ve ever experience such sartorial highs and lows in one place: there is some truly, astonishingly awful stock – but some good wardrobe staples too: very much worth a look. At any rate, I threw caution and taste to the winds and bought this truly tacky leopard print jacket for £23. Oh my. It’s even more trashy now it’s here. The fabric is shiny and textured in serpentine trails of gloss; the lace and glitz on the collar is beacon-bright. I don’t honestly know if I’m woman enough for it – but I do like a challenge.