Dancing with the Stars or Not

Ok, so maybe I can't dance with the stars, but I can dance. I just don't have the dress. Monday night I was wooed by dresses, I know that's suppose to be by the dances, I know the difference, but like I was saying, Monday night I was in awe of the dresses of Chelsie Kane, Karina, and Lacey. I also know how old I am, and no matter what, my mind and imagination take me back to "the Loretta Young Show." All that means, for those of you younger than Kirstie Alley and me, is that since childhood, I've imagined myself walzing down a curved staircase in a long flowing dress and high heels, without falling. Then like Loretta Young I would delicately touch the banister and swirl like a lady touching her skirt and smiling at all of the gentlemen in the audience watching me.

Realistically, I once owned and wore a fitted dress with the skirt cut on the bias, three quarter inch sleeves folded up, a collar that could be turned up at the neck like a blouse, and the dress complimented by a wide black belt. I felt like the queen of the dance when I wore my Loretta Young dress to school. I think even the kids felt the swirl when I twirled into the classroom, smiling. It made me feel like a woman, not unlike a mother, a wife, a lover, a teacher, an athlete, just a woman who loves to dance through life.