This isn’t a dress I would have chosen but from my teens, I loved to dress up. In the 1970s and 80s op- shops had the most fabulous clothes and I would regularly fossick for treasures. Cotton grandpa shirts, 50’s dresses, velvet coats, fine lace bolero jackets and all manner of accessories.
A girlfriend of the time collected everything vintage. Her wardrobe was full of chiffon, beaded silk and satin dresses that floated and fell lightly to your feet. The kind of dreamy clothes you’d pay top dollar for in the famed Banana Room.
Emboldened by beauty, we dressed for a night out and made our way to a popular nightclub on Light Square. We were poor students and in our 20s but in these clothes we felt like we belonged anywhere.
We could have been at a Hollywood party, like in the movies, as we walked the room, music pumping, drinks in hand. We were new lovers and couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Lost in the moment, we forgot ourselves, making out passionately on a banquette in the darkened club.
It didn’t take long for us to be jolted back to the reality of 1980s Adelaide, when we were approached by burly club staff and asked to leave for inappropriate behavior.