*Disclaimer: No Neils were harmed in the process of writing of this post*
They say one can never be under or over-dressed with a little black dress. Versatile when worn by day or by night, there’s little you can’t do when armed with the effortless classic that is the LBD. However, the one I’m wearing here isn’t exactly gonna make a nun break a sweat. I can’t promise the slits up the side would go down well though… Sorry sisters.
Let’s face it, it’s November and it’s 2 degrees outside, so ain’t no LBD (whatever the length) without any tights. And we all know what a pain in the arse they are. Literally. If they don’t go all the way up to my under boobage I don’t want to know. Then there’s that whole situation of when the crotch bit doesn’t quite manage to reach its destination and ends up kind of hovering down by your upper thighs. Ah, it makes my teeth feel weird just thinking about it. What about when you forget you’re in a public place and casually readjust yourself. Classy as ever. Or when, out of nowhere, you get this unbelievable desire to scratch your arse but you know once you start you won’t be able to stop. Like what the f*ck is going on here? It’s as if your arse is like nah sod this, if I’m gonna spend the next 6 months of my life cooped up in here then I am NOT gonna make it easy for you. Pantyhose piles, nylon nits… whatever you want to call that itch, it’s here and it’s among us and I am here to tear down the taboo and say we don’t have to suffer in silence anymore. We are strong, independent women with the ability to make our own decisions even if a man tells us otherwise. So next time Neil from HR tells you you can’t itch your cheeks because it’s company policy or some other BS, then just repeat after me: I have not watched you parade around on your phone with one hand clutching your clammy balls for the last umpteen years to be told I can’t itch my bits when I need to. I deserve the right to itch my bits too because that NEIL is e-f*cking-quality. Now if you don’t mind NEIL, I have got a burning backside I need to see to, so unless you would prefer to deal with a death by denier case come Monday, I suggest you respectfully feckkk off.
Omg so tights – they’re annoying. But on the other hand, they’re amazing because it means we can skip the whole stinking of cat’s piss fake tanning saga. You win some, you lose some.
This black dress is the only black dress I own. That could also be a lie but by that I mean a daytime, safe for work dress. The other LBDs are strictly reserved for those slutty Saturdays marked in red ink on the calendar. I jest, I jest. Hey, when you have an abnormally long chest and bee stings you’ve gotta work with whatever you’ve got. Embrace your wardrobe whore I say.
This was a sale rail dress and tbh for that reason I didn’t hold high hopes for it. It was reduced from £60 down to £20, so in my head I was thinking can I really be arsed to put myself through that intense 200 degree changing room heat to come out empty handed? But then I saw this guy flying around spritzing the place with some nice body spray and it was all relaxing and Nordic and I thought actually, I’ve got time to kill and I can’t face the tube yet so I’ll try some stuff on and ask that man what on earth that heavenly mist was he just sprayed. It was the Sardonyx Fire body mist from & Other Stories if you were curious.
I thought I must have got the price wrong because this dress fitted me like a glove. It hugged me in all the right places and skimmed over the areas that need a little bit more, ahem, help i.e a bloody miracle! Skeletal support – tick, figure flattering shade – tick, can still raise my arms – tick. I was feeling myself. It reminds me of something Victoria Beckham would wear. Classic, sophisticated, form-fitting *whispers to the dress, ‘I’m sorry I ever doubted you.’* I could give or take the side slits but I’m not gonna lose sleep over them. That sounds like a job for Neil.
So, on the face of things the dress is pretty plain and I’ve got a history of avoiding wardrobe staples like the plague – somehow shopping for things you need doesn’t have the same appeal as being reckless and just buying whatever the hell you like – but I’m so glad I added this LBD to my collection. My IKEA wardrobe however is about one more t-shirt away from handing in its notice.
Photography by Olivia Foley
Dress: & Other Stories (no longer available)
Boots: Pretty Little Thing