An email from an old friend reads: ’…-- you don’t know how long I’ve searched for you. …. do you still have the red dress? Maybe you’ll wear it again for me one day…’

I don’t have the red dress anymore; I don’t remember what happened to it, I must have given it away when I was moving. I’m suddenly nostalgic, realizing I could tell bits of my life around that dress; how could I have discarded it so effortlessly? I’d acquired it rather casually but we’d come a long way.

It was a basic long red dress; made of cotton and lycra fabrics for stretch and cling. It had short sleeves, stitched underneath the chest for a bustier effect; it hugged at the waist and flowed freely to the ankle.

Alice, my stepmom and I were on our Saturday ritual of grocery shopping all over north London, it was Food Giant in Cricklewood’s parking lot that I met Akos, a very old friend; naturally we were ecstatic to see each other. I went with her to PoundStretcher next door where she and her brother (whom I later came to develop a crush on) worked. She insisted that I ‘get something’; it’s like having to pick something from a (smaller) Wal-Mart, I browsed and when I got to the dress, Akos said I had to have it. It was like £10.99 I’m not sure if she actually paid for the dress, Akos and I became good friends and got through a lot together.

The first time I wore the dress was to a family friend’s christening in Maida Vale; it wasn’t too dressy or overly casual, I had to hold my tummy in because it was a bit tight. I also wore it on a disastrous double date with Akos and her visiting boyfriend from Florida. And for the party when she reunited with her first love from her holiday in Barcelona years ago, she suggested I wear the red dress. I wore it many other times for many other reasons

The dress came with me when I moved to the States; I eventually lost contact with Akos. Years later, one of my first jobs was with a wealth management firm in Friendship Heights (MD/DC border); I used to wear the red dress to work. Going up the Friendship Heights station’s escalator one day this guy runs up to me. He said I reminded him of someone he knew; she used to wear a dress just like that. Her name was Ayana and he had loved her.

We became friends, he talked about Ayana and how she went to Paris to be with another man. He seemed obsessed with my red dress; he asked me out and asked if I could wear the dress and I did. He said we’d take trips around the world and maybe see the Eiffel tower. Ayana came back to town, and had dinner with us, she wore a red dress, …I didn’t. I found out why she really left, he’d left a string of children and baby mothers in his native Cameroon. He ceased to be fun and entertaining; he said I was immature and selfish.

I’d wear the dress several other times to work, the last time I wore it was a sunny August day, it was one of my final days at my last job.

Suddenly I wish I’ve brought it here, what other memories could we have had?

PLAYING: Toxic – Britney Spears

READING: Brick Lane – Monica Ali

WATCHING: 1-800 Missing

QUOTE: “With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride”