I went shopping for a cocktail outfit to wear to L's wedding. A grim task.
It seems that manufacturers assume that as a woman ages she will grow bigger, taller and huskier: so, what may have been suitable are in quite immense sizes.
In smaller sizes, the clothes were short, strapless, ruched, rhinestoned, glittery and garish, and looked as if designed for ladyboys, rather than for nice young women. Poor girls: how fortunate was I to be young in the age of Courreges et al.
All that was left were indistict dark print, shapeless, loose things that looked suitable to wear at the Bide-a-Wee Distressed Gentlefolks free afternoon teas and fellowship. And they would do for intermittent funerals, as well.
I ended up longing for a naqib. With an extra opening - I imagine it rather like a post office slot - for a little discreet imbibing.