The Dress Read Free Page A

it.’
    Sally got straight on the phone to Style magazine and arranged to take over the shoot for Lily. Then she drove up Kilburn High Road and pulled her car up onto the pavement outside Old Times. She had never met Gareth before, but Lily had mentioned him often enough. Once she had introduced herself, Gareth said, ‘How is she?’
    His face was creased with worry. A crush? Of course. Everyone fell in love with Lily.
    â€˜Fine. Awful. Oh God, I don’t know! Her grandad’s dead, how do you think she is? Can I take the radio with me now for the shoot tomorrow?’
    Gareth looked at her aghast.
    â€˜I’m doing it for her,’ Sally said, ‘and I’m double parked so can we hurry this along, please?’
    Reluctantly Gareth carried the radio out and put it in the boot of her two-seater MG while Sally got in and started the engine.
    â€˜Send Lily my...’ He paused. ‘...best, um...’
    Sally raised her eyes to heaven then nodded goodbye and said, ‘Sure, will do,’ before speeding off.
    That afternoon, Sally moved into Lily’s cramped apartment. She slept on a pull-out bed behind a rack of vintage evening wear in the living room and, for the next forty-eight hours, kept Lily sane.

2
    Lily usually blogged daily, and posted her outfit on Instagram each morning, but now she could not face going online.
    â€˜You really need to put something up on your blog,’ Sally said, with her head full of rollers, on the morning of Joe’s funeral, ‘just to let people know that you’re not dead yourself!’
    Lily went to her computer desk and clicked the mouse. Her stomach tightened as she saw it was still open on the page she’d been researching on that terrible day. It showed an old Vogue article about a 1950s evening gown. Lily bookmarked the link, then opened her own blog and posted, I’ll be offline for a few more days. Back when my heart heals. #LilyLovesHerGrandad , before shutting down her computer and walking over to the enormous gold-framed antique mirror that dominated her tiny apartment, to put the finishing touches to her funeral ensemble.
    Lily adjusted the flat feather fascinator to the left of her parting and placed her long, auburn hair, styled into broad Lana Turner waves, neatly across the shoulder of her 1940s fur cape. Then she searched through her collection of red lipsticks for the perfect shade: Dior Dolce Vita. She never left the house without her trademark matte red lipstick. Red hair, red lips – it was against all the rules but when it came to fashion, Lily never followed the rules.
    Trends came and went but Lily remained steadfast in her passion for old-school dressing. As her blog said, Lily just loved vintage. She loved that the clothes were made so much better then. Every skirt, every dress had a lining, every jacket had folded seams and double-stitched cuffs. The embroidery and embellishments were all done by hand and not in a sweatshop. Lily loved rummaging for bargains in the vintage market – she even loved the slightly bitter, musty smell because it reminded her that among the un-cleaned clothes could be a priceless piece of old couture waiting to be discovered. She loved imagining the history of each piece; was this tiny white satin shrug part of a wedding trousseau? The woman who owned this scuffed 1950s leather handbag must have only owned one bag because she had worn it down to the bone. That’s how things were back then. Women had one bag, one pair of shoes, one ‘good’ dress, so they had to make them last, they had to make them special. Every bag, every dress, even down to the cheap beads or embroidered handkerchief she picked up from a 50p basket at a charity shop till was cherished by Lily because she knew it had been owned and, at one time, loved by another woman. Fashion wasn’t disposable in the past, like it was now. Clothes were important, something to be treasured.
    Today Lily was