When the daylight has faded

Gucci & Gabbana (#agree)

"This one or this one?" she asks. Her question sounds trivial, innocent even. Still, my heart stops. I know what's coming. I've been through this so many times, should have seen it coming a mile away, should have prepared myself. I nearly sigh audibly but manage to stop myself just in time.

"Well, personally I think that ... you know ... if I was you, I would probably ..." My stammer is intentional and designed to buy me time. It doesn't seem to be buying me any favours from her, though, if her reaction to my carefully crafted plan is anything to go by.

"Jesus Christ, which one? It's a straightforward bloody question, isn't it? It's not rocket science, and we have to leave in an hour, and I haven't put my makeup on yet! I'll never manage if you want to be difficult on purpose!"

Her voice has risen to 140 decibels, and she has a slightly mad look in her eyes. Not good. I know those signs and their meaning. They signify that we are about to hit the point of no return.

"This one!" Going back on my original plan of delay tactics, I make an immediate executive decision and point to the red one, crossing my fingers behind my back that I'm not too late and not too wrong.

But, alas, Gucci & Gabbana, the Golden Gods of Glamour Gowns are having it in for me today. I realise this when her eyes start to bulge and her cheeks puff up.

"The red one?" she shrieks, and I'm not sure whether this is a question or an accusation.

"How can you even say that? I can't wear the red one! I look fat in the red one, and you know that! Are you deliberately trying to make me look ugly?" Her forehead and nose are all scrunched up now, and, while I have no idea what the difference is between the red and the black dress, I'm sure as shit reminded of a French Bulldog when I look at her.

"Better not say that aloud," I tell myself and smile, while I tune out her raving rant.

"... and all the Paris Hilton lookalikes will laugh and make fun of me because I'm ugly and I can't cover up my ugly because I haven't been studying all these beauty tutorials on YouTube and I don't even know what a concealer is ..."

Puff, the bulldog image vanishes from my brain and I see a naturally beautiful woman in front of me. Slowly, I put my arms around her and hug her tightly.

"Let's forget the stupid party and the plastic beauties that you have nothing in common with anyway. We'll curl up on the settee together with a good glass of wine instead. But you can put the red one on anyway." I give her a cheeky grin.

A small smile appears on her face, the wrinkles on her face smooth out and she gives me a kiss, whispering: "Yes, I agree!"