Dress Stress

This rather blurry pic was taken on a whirlwind weekend away in France, at what was possibly the perfect party, (one of the Phly Boyz behind,) with me looking utterly relaxed without a whisker of the dress stress that had haunted me in the build-up to the day.

It started with an deliciously intriguing Paperless Post invite ( is it sad that I still love the bit when the envelope opens itself?)

Two parties, one weekend, the South of France - does it get any better?

Until, when innocently prodding for some details beyond the 'glamourous' dress code, I began to hear rumours of multiple dress changes, serious accessories, and then the one that tipped the balance:  'Dolce, with a train'.

If that doesn't strike fear into your hearts, dear reader, then you are made of stronger stuff than I.

So, I thought I would start small, with my bag. A bright silver clutch that felt both evening and summery.  I lined it with matchy silver....

followed by a hurried trawl through the wardrobe(s), which delivered a back-up possibility, vintage Nicole Farhi silk chiffon apron dress, down to the ankle, very strappy and perfect for a warm summer's night.

A trudge through Selfridges only underlined the fact, that when you are looking, you never find - though I struck gold at the shoe bazaar with some silver birkenstock style flatties from www.kurtgeiger.com just right for pootling around the Matisse Chapel and the food markets in Vence....

A last minute finger-swiping frenzy led me to Matches,  but ended with a frustrating no-show of a dress the day before we were due to leave.  I  console myself with the fact it would most definitely have been too long...but it was very lovely....

So I sedately packed my silver Jimmy Choo's (I know I constantly name-check JC, but definitely the most comfortable high heels around) for the night,

and some seriously reliable wedges to slip into from Pierre Hardy's ancient collaboration with Gap for the last few hours of dancing

and my floaty chiffon wrap with 'destroyed' silver flowers to keep off a midnight breeze, and gave up on finding 'The One' and slipped  the vintage Nicole Farhi into the case.

After an evening of meticulously executed brilliant deliciousness in every direction,  a serenade by Eliza Doolittle and the final hours on the dance floor, the dress stress melted away, leaving only the feeling that perfect parties are a rare but wonderful breed, and sometimes, something old can be the new new.