An Old Fashioned Floral Frock

- Lucy Adlington

You’re not going out looking like that!” Marion and her husband Jim spoke almost in unison as their daughter Megan descended the stairs in heels and red satin.

“That’s not a dress, it’s more like a glorified waistband,” muttered Marion.

Megan tugged at her hem.

“Oh, come off it, Mum. You wore minis in the seventies or eighties, or whenever you were once young. If you were ever young,” she added with a pout.

“That was different,” Marion said stiffly. “They were A-line. Over thick tights. And longer.”

“Not that much longer,” murmured Jim with a sudden warm memory of a date that had involved chicken-in-a-basket, the Kinks on the car radio and… and, well, never mind the rest. His daughter was far too young for all of that, and, frankly, he felt far too old to be policing a teenager.

Megan had been a surprise very late in their married life. A happy surprise, but still…

It was apparent that she wasn’t going down without a fight.

“You said I could get something nice for the Christmas Ball at school!”

Marion snorted. “Christmas Ball! In our day we called it a disco, didn’t we, Jim? Jim? Are you listening?”

Jim was humming “You really got me” under his breath, with a goofy smile on his face. The smile vanished.

“Yes, dear. Listening. Absolutely.” Marion folded her arms.

“Now, Meg, you can get back up those stairs and change into something that doesn’t make you look like… like…”

“Like every other eighteen-year-old who’s celebrating the festive season!” Megan objected.

Do I sound like my mother?” Marionfretted to Jim while Megan stomped off. “All those times I came downstairs in velour hot-pants, or denim flares…”