The gossip sheets have all been abuzz regarding what I am wearing to the Willow Manor Ball.
Well, here it is, darlings:
Isn't it fab? Of course it's not a wedding dress! I insist. Even if it were, I'm just daring enough to show up in public in it, anyway. Because I'm a maverick. I only hope I don't trip over that bubble hem all night. It would be a horrible faux pas to fall into some man's arms.
Since I couldn't make a choice between Cary Grant and Clark Gable, I allowed both of them to accompany me. I do declare, I can't decide which of them is the handsomest. I'm hoping there will be some sort of duel by the end of the ball. Of course I will insist that the gentlemen take it outside, so as to not spoil the ambience of Willow's lovely ball.
Then I will allow the one who is still alive to escort me home.