image: www.style.comyesterday, in the salon rooms of christian dior paris, this took place. i've just finished reading the delightful 1950s novel 'flowers for mrs harris' (a divine, aged hardback edition was a present from phoebe for my birthday - thank you phoebe!) in which a humble london cleaning lady becomes obsessed with owning a dior couture gown, saves up for a few years and then heads to the shop/rooms to get herself one. it renders the desire to have, to own something utterly beautiful and unique and expensive that would live in your wardrobe like nothing i've ever read before.
on seeing the image above, i imagined myself as mrs 'arris at the show yesterday, gasping when this dress was walked down the carpet and scribbling in my notebook 'look number 12, TEMPTYTION!!'
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