An Eliza Doolittle Moment is Looming...

At the other end of the this week I will be leaping aboard a plane pointed northwards to attend the wedding of my eldest young cousin, to fly the flag for the southern branch of the family.

Everyone is VERY excited.  

Hollie and Matt
To be betrothed on 6.12.2014
Very excited - and so say all of us.

The Groom, Matt, is my uncle Ken's first born and it's the first wedding from that branch of the tree.  (And it's a small family tree.)  Ken's always felt more like a brother than an uncle since he's only 11 years older than me.  And consequently his kids and I have never really had a conventional cousinly camaraderie.  There's a generational time warp and cultural disconnect between all of us that's been inevitable due to the fact that I'm twice their age, ethnic, black-clad Melbourne and they're youthful, Aussie, lamé Gold Coast.  And heck!  I'll try and say this without getting emotional... I'm Blue and they're Bombers – shocking, I know.

So the question has arisen:  what am I going to wear?  My aim is to look nice enough, but not to be notable in the amassed group.

I've got a lovely dress I bought it a couple of years ago and it hasn't had much wear. If the wedding were in Melbourne I'd wear it without a second thought. But me in black to a Gold Coast wedding – particularly with my white glowing calves and I might as well accessorise with a huge neon sign flashing "SOUTH OF THE BORDER".  Not quite the effect I'm after.

I think I'm going to have to go shopping.