
By Barbara Falconer Newhall
My niece’s wedding was just days away and I didn’t have a thing to wear.
A beautiful, talented young woman was marrying a terrific young man. They’d known each other for years. This was a handsome pairing, and it was going to stick.
It called for something pretty and danceable. Something to signal my auntly pleasure in this happy turn of events. Wedding at 6, followed by dinner and dancing — I wanted to show up with all the glitz and pomp I could muster
A visit to the evening wear section of my closet – all four inches of it – turned up two pairs of


baggy black slacks and a couple of cautious, loose-fitting tops with sleeves down to the wrists.
None of this would do. This wedding needed A Dress. Wedding wear. A festive evening confection with panache and color and sparkle.
And skin. Lots of it. Arms. Legs. And, what the heck, décolletage.
The dress couldn’t be white, of course. That’s the bride’s prerogative. And it certainly couldn’t be black. People might conclude that I was an old fussbudget mourning the match. That meant that finding The Dress would be a bit of a challenge.
I put on my best bra and off to the mall I went.








I love the socks! They are so cleverly unmatched. Oh wow, pretty dress!
I found some jewelry to give the look some glitz and get me — out there.
And how do you suggest we differentiate between “old wisdom” muslims and radical muslims? Your article talks a lot and says nothing.
Chris
You got another good story in. And yes you look really, really good in black for the wedding.
great socks, and the right color for the dress!
A socks compliment coming from the queen of cool sox.