Big Number, Right?
Thirty. Three Zero. 30.
I understand the monumental enormity of this number better than most – not as a mathematician – but as one approaching her thirtieth birthday.*
Whilst I attempt to fathom what this coming of (old) age means for the future – Botox? Whiskers sprouting from my chin? Sneeze-and-they’ll-Break hips? A free bus pass? – thoughts also turn to my party. And more especially, the frock in which to begin another decade.
With Napoleon’s feverish talk of babies (insert: scream) and finally setting a date for our wedding (insert: second scream), the dress worn to celebrate my birthday next year may be Vera Wang… or simply patterned with baby chuck-up.
Shouldn’t the one I wear this year be particularly special, therefore?
My eyes and credit card wander to Helmut Lang. What do you think? Is such a sexy little number appropriate for an old bird approaching her big number?
Is it helpful to purchase a dress with easy-clean leather panels from which to wipe my ‘Loss of Youth’ tears?
*Not sure whether I should confess this… I also happen to be a Scorpio, and so, the astrologically-minded amongst you will know just how closely my big day looms.