This is a formal farewell to a purchasing mistake. And to the long period of denial that followed it. I saw this item several years back in the window of Ruby in Wellington, long, slinky and gleaming. It had all the hallmarks of potential success - usefulness, shape and fit (I loved its length), a smidgen of glamour. Yet each time I put it on I looked as if I were coming down with some particularly nasty disease of the liver. Which didn't stop me trying it time and again, each time pulling it off in dismay at what it did to my complexion.
Finally admitting defeat, I took it to Melbourne for S. She pounced, but on examining herself in the mirror, couldn't get it off fast enough.
Then, the other evening, the other S tried it on. Et voilà - smashing. Thank god she's taking it off my hands and out of my life.
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