Move over Cinderelly

A huge part of our problem is that we want to post things on this blog in some sort of chronological order, which means that when we take a trip, we have to do all that blogging before "regular life" (ha!) proceeds.  So I need to give up my linear perspective and just post what I can post when I can post it.

The big event this week is a friend's (Gulf Arab) wedding.  We have been honored with an invitation, and knowing that the local ladies will be dressed in some freaking amazing dresses under those black abayas, we threw all caution to the wind and let Hannah pick out her own dress.  The fabulous dress maker, Julie, has a shop full of little girl poufiness, and she got to pick her basic dress shape, materials, trim, and bling.  He then made the dress to order for her.  The Correspondent, master of bespoke tailoring, was beaming with pride.  When she went back to pick up the dress and put it on to check the fitting, an Indian family posed their daughters with her for photos.

I will be wearing a very plain black evening skirt with a rather understated mono-color shirt.  With a "date" on my arm like this little Oscar statuette, there's no way I can compete.  Photos will not be allowed at the wedding, so now is the time to...

BEHOLD THE GOLDEN PRINCESS.