Ooh the frock

Yesterday was dress fitting three - and the first time I got to see my dress actually made out of the fabric it's supposed to be made of - which is silk by the by, overlaid with embroidered tulle - not to be confused with tuille - which is a form of french pastry. Although a dress made of pastry could be rather nice.

Whenever I talk about my dress people shhh me or do that funny bulgy eye thing if Mr Jones walks within two foot. I have explained time and again that the words a-line, v neckline, tulle, silk and train mean absolutely nothing to him, so it really doesn't matter - but somehow they still think that he'll be picturing the exact dress in his mind. The mother of the bride had to have a picture of it drawn before she got it - so I doubt very much that Mr Jones has half a clue.

Anyhoo - I drove into fens to see the lovely Miss Lamb for my fitting. It was hot and I was slightly concerned that she was going to slap me, or at least jab me with a few pins for losing a stone since my last visit - but she didn't - she's far too professional (either that or she was thinking: "there must me something wrong with your scales love because you don't look any different to me"). My dress looked lovely - and then even more lovely after we fiddled, and nipped and tucked here and there.

I tried desperately not to sweat in it - but alas my poor legs, swathed as they were in net petticoats (don't worry - Mr Jones probably doesn't know what they are either), couldn't take the pressure and started to leave little pools in my shoes. I've heard you can get botox in your knee pits to stop such delights - but I think that might be a step too far.

Speaking of shoes, as pretty as mine are, don't be decieved by them - after an hour and a half of standing in them my poor trotters were rather worse for wear. So if you hear tales of a crazy woman tottering about Queen Street in a pair of ivory satin heels and stripy socks don't be alarmed - it'll be me breaking them in to save my little hooves.

PS - Are you scared now that that's a sketch of my dress? You'll just have to wait and see.