There is a story to the shorter black number. Tom and I went to Ireland for a friends christening, and on the way home stayed in the Morrison in Dublin. We went shopping in Brown Thomas and he bought me this dress. That evening we walked across Halfpenny bridge, and a very nervous Tom stopped me half way across, admiring the sunset , he nervously said the words I had been waiting seven years to hear,
‘Will you marry me?’
I didn’t notice the people streaming past us, my world was on hold.
Maybe that answers my dilemma?