Today in England, it is quite possibly the most dull, grey, insipid, uninspiring and certainly uneventful that British weather can get. It is indeed a day where the lights inside the house have to be on all day because it is so grey outside; a day where pyjamas are the only sufficient clothing options and watching reality TV and chick-flicks is the only way to get through the dreary day. In between watching already-seen-76-times episodes of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (season 3 starts on Monday!!!!) and the ever-entertaining Keeping Up With The Kardashians, I decided to take a look back on some Spring/Summer 2013 shows to help with my British weather coma and make me feel inspired for next summer…. Pfft!
Anyway, I looked back in the Dennis Basso presentation and for the second time after seeing it initially, was taken back to fairy tale land. The presentation was truly spectacular, the dresses were magical and I can only imagine that prancing round in one of the blush-coloured ball gowns would make me feel like I was living in high society New York in 1900 dancing as the most sought-after debutante with the most dashing boy, in the most spectacular gown. Not that I’ve thought about it or anything.
The muted palette of Ivories, blushes, greys, silvers and taupes along with a few splatterings of always-glamourous black, the show was certainly a sight to be seen.
Each telling a different story of decadence, the collection was the epitome of elegance. I’ve looked through each photo of the show numerous times now and honestly cannot choose a favourite piece. I can’t. I feel like I would be doing some sort of disservice if I was to label the dresses in a hierarchical manner.
Lace, voile, crinoline, heavy-embroidery, intensive beadwork, dip-dye fringing, silk and tulle are all components of a truly magnificent collection in which only a select few will truly enjoy to the full extent of the experience of prancing round like a princess… Oh well, the rest of us can dream.
Back to reality, I stare out at the rain-splattered window at the depressing atmosphere outside and forlornly look down at my pyjamas. Who needs a ball gown anyway?