A few years back, I had a red dress and I was very fond of it. I felt good in it but it was getting a bit worn. Some women dread being known by a particular dress or outfit. I’m one of them. So last year I got a new red dress. We were going to a conference, one where very few women would be attending. I rather liked the idea of wearing something colourful in a sea of dark suits.

Tim and I went to Dublin the night before. In the morning I put on the red dress. Tim asked: “Is that dress new?” There was a particular tone that I’ve come to recognise over the years as bad news. I answered: “Yes, why?” “Well, it doesn’t do a lot for your figure!”

My heart fell. I had nothing else with me so defiantly I said: “I don’t care. I’m wearing it anyway.”

There was silence in the room. Tim went back to reading the paper. I continued to beautify myself even though I felt frumpy. I put on the tights and the high heels. Tim looked up again.

“I really don’t think you can go out like that,” he said.

“Why?” I demanded, I didn’t think I was quite that bad.

“Because you have a huge ladder on the back of your tights!” I looked down to see the creeping ladder rising as I moved.

It began at my ankle and gathered momentum as it rose and widened until it was to the back of my knee. I couldn’t believe my eyes and I didn’t have a second pair with me. I’d have accused him of sabotage except he was on the other side of the room.

I wore the red dress to work a few times and then sent it off to the clothes bank

I felt like bursting into tears with frustration but instead we both burst out laughing. What more could you do? He suggested that I wear what I’d on the evening before. Reluctantly, I retrieved the clothes from the floor and climbed into them; trousers, a top and jacket.

Then we headed away to fade in among the other suits. I wore the red dress to work a few times and then sent it off to the clothes bank.

Once Tim says something isn’t nice, that’s the end of it. I do trust his judgement and fortunately he’s completely honest. You get the appraisal – warts and all.

Cartoon by Clyde Delaney.

Time to dress up

With four weddings this summer, I decided that I’d chance another red dress!

The old hankering hadn’t gone away. I don’t have time for browsing in the shops so I decided to look online. I see my daughter and nieces getting packages only to turn them around and return them if the item is not suitable. The only winner seems to be An Post.

I found the red dress! It was a brand I’d worn before so I thought it would fit my figure and so I placed the order. It was so easy.

I ventured upstairs and slipped it on. To be truthful, it didn’t quite slip on. It was pulled across the bust line. I examined the seams

A few days later it arrived.

I ventured upstairs and slipped it on. To be truthful, it didn’t quite slip on. It was pulled across the bust line. I examined the seams. There was a little bit of material there. An eighth of an inch can make an awful difference.

I ripped the seams and redid them. I was happy with the result. The night before the first wedding, I came downstairs sporting my red dress. My husband sat up.

“I don’t like it,” he said.

At first I thought he was joking.

“No Kay, it’s one of the worst things you’ve ever put on.”

I walked up and down the living room.

“Seriously, it’s terrible.”

Taken aback, I began to probe how it might be altered to improve the situation!

As for my husband’s compliments, I really value them when they come

“It can’t! My advice is to put it in the bin,” he said.

Needless to add, I didn’t wear that dress and I can’t return it because I’ve gone and altered it. As for my husband’s compliments, I really value them when they come because I know they are given with honesty. So on the flip side, I’ve to take his criticism on the chin! There will have to be more shopping for a red dress but this time in a real shop.