Last Friday was date night. At noon I had no idea where I was going or more important, what I would wear. Half the reason I insist on periodic date nights is purely so I can flex my sartorial muscle beyond office wear and gym wear. Donning heels and something totally not office appropriate every once in a while is de rigueur for my sanity.
Back to noon on Friday. I’m eating lunch while working from home, and a quarter of the way into my Wendy’s BLT Cobb salad, the doorbell rings. My fashion fairy godmother (in the form of a UPS delivery man) bestowed upon me a HUGE box that I was expecting, but not quite so soon (yay!). With a wild look on my face (and a bemused one Hubby’s), I sprinted for the scissors and began hacking my way into the box.
Eventually, I unearthed a fantastic frock from equally fantastic brand Foley + Corinna. And then, in true blogger fashion, I tweeted this:
What was it? Oh, just the Long Jersey Dolman Dress, courtesy of Foley + Corinna. Just my perfect date night dress.
A well-hidden slit—and reversible leather belt with fringe ties—as far as the eye can see. Don’t let that slit scare you…it only opens with a good, strong wind (or if you want it to). T-shirt-like jersey that’s as comfy as your favorite old bathrobe. The breathtaking draped, open back. And the fact that my new Max Azria half-front sandals happened to match the belt perfectly. Another bonus. See? Meant to be.
OK, so why the Jolie Foley?
I know when Americans see “Jolie,” they think of Angelina. Jolie actually means “pretty” in French (Jolie’s mum happened to be a Frenchie). Enter another lovely Frenchism, the double entendre. Fully applicable in this instance.
While I do think the dress is très jolie, I took these photos before stepping out for a date with Hubby, remember? On said date, in between appetizers and our main course, I slipped to the powder room to reapply my MAC Vegas Volt lippie. While there, a lass complimented me on the dress, saying “It looks like something Angelina Jolie would wear,” and asked where I got it. She’s right, I thought, as I conjured images of Jolie in long dresses of this ilk.
Eyes gleaming (and not just because I’d had a couple martinis), I turned to her and replied, “Thank you. It’s Foley and Corinna. I’m a fashion blogger and they actually sent it to me.”
Who needed dessert after all that? Not me. My day—and night—were already sweet enough.
PS: I was feeling all kinds of French in this post, wasn’t I? Beautiful language. Thought of you when writing it, Antoine.
And thanks to Hubby who kind of begrudgingly suffered me as model and picky artistic director while taking these shots.