To attend a wedding on your own when you don't know anyone other than the bride is a very brave thing to do. And I'm a brave kind of girl, so when my husband couldn't get off work to attend the day-time part of my friend's wedding I was grand with it.
He'd catch up with me later.
Drop me in a roomful of strangers, half of whom speak another language - no problem.
Navigate my way to the other side of the county midst flash flood warnings - twill be an adventure.
Arriving at the rural west of Ireland church wearing a simple red polka day dress and knee length coat to realise everyone else was in black tie - utter panic. Not to blow this completely out of proportion but my heart actually started to race in horror.
I wondered was I just a bit thick or simply unlucky?
This year alone I'd found myself trapped in a public toilet with a broken lock; boarded a train destined for Limerick when I was trying to get to Cork; and had a miscommunication with a hairdresser about the length of an inch; and now here I was again, looking like mini mouse among a group of people who wouldn't look out of place at Paris fashion week.
I texted my husband- general problem solver and understander of me blowing things out of proportion.
His reply: Leave coat on & no one will see dress.
For once I was thankful for a rainy Irish Summer day with gale force winds which meant that at least in the short term his advice would save my face from turning the same colour as my crimson red coat, but long term this wasn't a viable plan.
I tried to convince him to drop everything and travel at high speed across the country with one of my evening dresses. He promised to leave as early as he could, which in man-speak meant about ten minutes earlier than planned.
So my options were to wear a coat for several hours in a hotel that has log fires burning in every room or stop being so utterly shallow.
I firmly committed to the latter option, then I made the huge mistake of glancing at a woman beside me. The picture of elegance. Hair rolled into a chignon. Dewy skin with a touch of make-up and dramatic black eye-liner around her already dark eyes. She wore a figure hugging black lace gown with a short trail and an off-white fur shrug hung loosely over her bare shoulders. She even smelled sophisticated. Her presence only turned the lights up on my nightmare. That was, until she spoke.
"Allo." Her whisper was wrapped in unmistakable Parisian accent.
"I didn't realise it was black tie," I said swallowing hard.
The woman gave a dismissive wave of her hand, followed by a shrug of her perfectly toned shoulders. "The dress-code, it's just a suggestion, no? Not mandatory", she said kindly.
Of course she was right, it wasn't as if the wedding police were going to deny me access to the event. Nor would wearing the wrong clothes prevent me from having a good time.
Okay, who was I kidding. Certainly not this woman, who saw through my fake smile and said, "you know I brought two other dresses with me, you're welcome to change into one when we get back to the hotel, I think we're about the same size."
We were not the same size but an hour later this lovely woman, who I'd never met before, rugby tackled me into the corset of one of her beautiful gowns. I couldn't breathe but it didn't matter, I felt like Cinderella.
I should have thought to text my husband who was more than a little surprised when he arrived (with a suitcase of my dresses) to see me already gowned. I also realised I should have reminded him to pick up a tux for himself, but he could always leave his coat on!