Theatre

If you’ve seen my avatar, you’ll know how much I love masks.

Today we popped into a little costume shop (for the girls) and my youngest was immediately enchanted by a theatrical garment hanging from the ceiling.

It was a pink skirt made out of a soft, plush fabric, lined in something stiff for shape. This skirt was bedecked with tiers of rolled deep pinky red rosettes that were connected by a graceful grosgrain ribbon. It looked like something a stylish young fox would wear with a fitted jacket to a woodland ball and both my six-year-old daughter and I wanted it.

So we walked over to the rental counter and I gasped, because on a shelf, way in the back, I saw the peeking profile of what simply had to be a lady fox mask.

And indeed it was. Made out of faux fur, this red fox half-mask wore a jaunty blue felt mini top hat at a rakish angle (tipped down over the brow). On the front of the hat were three gently faded silky grosgrain apricot flowers, all the prettier for their shabby state.

I immediately yearned for a dress-up party to attend, preferably one in the English countryside in a fabulous manor home, with smart, delightful, witty people to chat with.

Or perhaps a ball in the forest clearing.

In the meantime, I’m dreaming about that chic half-mask (it's about 30 years old and not for sale) and imagining a handsome wolf in a trim suit twirling with me through the ballroom leaves.