I have a vision in my head: my beautiful friends and I are sitting at a little table in a sunny piazza in the city of Rome. We are talking and laughing and sipping wine. We are full of the joy of life and being together in Italy. And we are wearing cute little black dresses.
I have my passport. The tickets are reserved. European euros and traveller's cheques are ordered from the bank. I leave in five weeks. There are plenty of likely piazzas in the sunshine waiting in Rome. And all that is missing from this vision was the dress I am planning to wear.
The mission this past weekend: to find a Little Black Dress to wear while in Rome.
You know, so I can look something like Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina , something that Coco Chanel would have approved, something simple and sophisticated and yet kicky and fun....
Do you think there might be such an article of clothing to be found in the town I live in? There isn't.
Well, there is if you count the little black barely-there suede dress from Paris I once borrowed from my friend Nell for a fancy soiree (she has a closetful of gorgeous evening wear) but no, I meant to have something of my own.
So I went shopping down-Island on Saturday and found my sweet Little Black Dress at Le Chateau after a minimum of fuss and angst in the changing rooms. The third dress I tried on was the charm. I knew it was the one just looking at it on the rack.
Sigh, I'm not usually a girl who gets into the spirit of shopping, but this was satisfying. I'll post a picture at some point.
But at least some of you have seen it already as I
also managed to have a visit with my friend Pol (who is travelling with me) before racing up the Island again in time to become a volunteer Serving Wench for the Cantiamo Choir's Italian -themed fundraiser night.
The choir was raising money to sing in Prague and Salzburg this July and tickets were around fifty dollars. But you could avoid the ticket price altogether if you didn't mind rushing around up and down stairs like a fiend carrying trays of bruschetta artichoke and olive tapenades, and hustling out plates of bocconcini salad and ricotta cannelloni and chocolate-drizzled tiramisu for a crowd of two hundred.
Between courses I could listen to gorgeous Italian arias and duets (I was definitely in the mood tonight for eighteenth-century Italian music) and (eventually) be fed besides.