The Italian INFLUENCE

It was just a dress – but its effect on Anne would change everything

- Ginny Swart

I am from Milan, discreet yet tasteful. A designer model. That evening, I intended to cause a stir. I knew people would look at us as we came in, Anne and me, and they'd compliment her and she'd blush and protest, because she's not had many compliments lately. And as she walked through the restaurant with her husband, Martin, she'd look into his eyes and see his admiration and love for her all over again.

That's what Anne and I both thought would happen. But things turned out rather differently...

She'd seen me in Harrods' window and, as she passed, I saw her hesitate and look intently at me. Then she gave a little nod as if agreeing with herself. And walked on.

I was disappointed. I would have suited her admirably.

I am well cut, exquisitely sewn, not too showy, but definitely a party sort of dress. Cut low, but not immodest, in a gleaming ivory silk with a beaded neckline to match almost any celebration- even a wedding, if you wanted to keep it elegant and not fluffy.

And then a surprising thing happened. The door at the back of the window opened and the assistant came in and carefully removed me.

She took me to Anne, who was waiting in a little cubicle, to try me on. Apparently, I was one of a kind, and they didn't have another like me on the rails. Designed in Milan and exclusive, that's me.

I fitted her perfectly. I knew I would. She looked at our reflection, smoothing my skirt and turning this way and that.

I'll take it,' she said.

I noticed she didn't look at my rather eye-watering price tag, which told me she was either a wealthy woman, had married well. Buona fortuna, or good luck, as we Italians like to say.

Anne wasn't stunningly beautiful, as would have truly complimented my own appearance, but I warmed to her pretty face, sweet smile and gentle manner.