My Gloriously Unfashionable Satin Dress

Dear Diary,

I have to admit, the moment I saw this dress, I knew it was absolutely, gloriously unfashionable and that was precisely what appealed to me.

It is an enormous, flowing satin dress in a creamy ivory shade, covered from neckline to hem with clusters of blue, lavender and purple flowers. The satin catches the light beautifully, producing those unmistakable glossy highlights that make the fabric look almost liquid. Every movement creates another shimmer.

The cut is wonderfully excessive. It has long, voluminous sleeves gathered at the wrists and a high, almost demure neckline. There isn't a hint of anything fitted or fashionable about it. Instead, the fabric simply falls generously from my shoulders, creating what can only be described as a magnificent satin tent.

The skirt reaches all the way to my ankles and seems to have enough material for two dresses. When I stand still, it hangs heavily around me when I move, the satin swishes and ripples, making the whole thing feel wonderfully theatrical.

And those flowers! They are everywhere little blue blossoms mixed with larger purple flowers and delicate sprays of foliage. The pattern is almost comically old fashioned, exactly the sort of thing someone might once have described as "very tasteful" while everyone else quietly wondered what on earth they were thinking.

I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help smiling. It is not slimming. It is not sleek. It is certainly not modern. If anything, it makes me look even larger and more enveloped in fabric.

But perhaps that is its charm.

There is something wonderfully liberating about wearing something that makes absolutely no attempt to flatter the figure. It simply says, Here I am, surrounded by yards and yards of shiny floral satin, and I couldn't care less about fashion.

Tonight, I think I'll enjoy every ridiculous, magnificent inch of it.

What a dress. What a tent. What a gloriously unfashionable thing to wear.

And somehow, I absolutely love it.