Let's Bring Back Glamour, Girls!

Why don't people dress up anymore?

For the sake of honesty, I'll admit I'm asking that while wearing old jeans and a sweatshirt... but at least it's a slim sweatshirt, not one I nicked from Cary's closet, and hey; I've been cleaning the oven. I doubt even Iman does that in couture.

Despite my present appearance, I really do wish I had the confidence to dress up more often, because let's face it: how many opportunities do we get nowadays? One or two proms and maybe a wedding. That's about it. And that, ladies and gents, does not cut it.

I want to be like &mdash and hear me out here &mdash an older Russian woman I saw at Wal-mart a few weeks back. In a sea of T-shirts and tattoos, here was an honest-to-goodness polished lady. Her attitude was regal yet polite, her make-up and hair were just so, her clothing elegant and classic.

But what really caught my eye was her mink pillbox hat. Not just a pillbox; a mink pillbox. I, sadly, will never be a Hat Girl, but for a few moments I was tempted to try. Maybe something with a brim, I thought...

Thankfully I already have the Cary!

During our latest Goodwill Hunting trip, my dear friend Sue found a fabulous dress. Long and strapless, in fitted black satin with an elegant cascade of embroidery and pearls near its train. Yeah; a train. This gown has some serious Old Hollywood Glamour going on.

It fit her perfectly, tiny creature that she is. She said it made her feel like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady.

You're ticked they dubbed all your songs? I wondered, but then realized she meant she felt transformed, like an ugly duckling becoming a swan &mdash or in Sue's case, a lovely swan becoming a lovelier one. I told her she reminded me of Rita Hayworth as Gilda.
(Seriously. If Sue will consent to a photo, I'll gladly prove it to you.)

"But where would I wear it?" she asked.

Good question.

Now no matter where we're going or what we're doing, Sue always looks polished and put together. I don't mean heels and pearls; just a bit nicer than those around her (like, for instance, me). But even the gorgeous Miss Sue might feel a skooch out of place wearing such a slinky number grocery shopping.

But maybe if we all started dressing a bit nicer, it wouldn't seem so shocking to consider wearing the gown to dinner or to a play. Maybe if we took a cue from our First Lady &mdash or if you prefer, the ladies of Mad Men &mdash we could bring elegant dressing back into everyday life. Or at least touches of it.

Sue bought the dress, by the way, Places to Where It be damned. It was too wonderful to leave behind, and it only cost... Well, I guess ladies don't discuss cost, do they? Let's just say the only thing more shocking than how great Sue looked in the dress was how little it cost.

"Even if I just wear it around the house," she smiled, "I'll feel like Audrey Hepburn."

That time I pictured a Breakfast-at-Tiffany's Audrey instead of a My-Fair-Lady Audrey, and I have to admit I could see it.

I just hope she doesn't wear it while cleaning the oven.