I've just become obsessed with ballroom dancing. I signed up for the introductory course, which was like a four-week thing. By the end of it, I was hooked. I love it. It's sort of flirty, but it's not sexual. I can't quit until I've got it down and I can really dance. I'm there four or five times a week.
The piece I most love wearing is Mother's gold brocade cocktail dress with matching jacket... It's 'flip and flirty,' as my mother prescribed. It's crisp yet splendid. It makes me feel I've put on made-to-order armor. My mother's armor. Armor that helped shield me from exclusion. Armor that helped shield me from inferiority.