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What are the chances – three of us turning up in the same gold dress?

KEEPING your cool under sartorial pressure can be taxing when you've doubts about whether your rig-out suits you or whether the scaffolding underneath is making everything go where it should (spanx are a miracle until they go rogue on you).

But it's another level of strain if someone turns up in the same frock as you.

That's if you're an actual celebrity as opposed to someone intermittently snapped at the launch of a drink/moisturiser/shoe shop. And you care about these things.

I got the dress that I wore to last Friday's VIP Style Awards last Wednesday. Cari's Closet in Malahide was happy to sort out this disorganised attendee and non-nominee.


A full-length Badgley Mischka gold-sequinned number in exactly the sort of shape I wear.

I loved it. Comfy too, which is generally the exception to the rule when it comes to evening wear.

That might strike you as an unusual prerequisite for the red carpet and may mean I'm letting myself go, but I'm now at the age where my body is built for comfort and not for speed.

Nowadays the cybersphere shatters the illusion that a dress is yours alone or that dresses are monogamous. Google any label and it'll come up.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise then that as I approached the red carpet last Friday evening I spotted a dress in my peripheral vision; sparkly and long.

Was it like mine? Who was wearing it? Did she look better? The predicament of what to do – go over instantly and laugh? Or would she get upset and leave? Should I leave? Change? Go into social quarantine?

Was I seeing double?

Nope, I was seeing treble. Another version of the dress appeared. Then there were three, in a supernova of glitter. Caitlin McBride of Independent.ie, Melanie Finn of the Herald and myself – aka The Supremes.


Who wore it better? Well, thankfully Caitlin and Melanie cared as much as me. As in, none of us felt like ersatz attendees.

Of course, VIP magazine editor Michael O'Doherty was never going to get through his legendary speech without drawing everyone's attention to it.

And it was a hoot having people file up to me during the evening, sympathising, like the fashion police were on the way.

I could say that we did it to have continuity. You know, when you do the same things or dress the same way as your friends when you're 15.

But we're not 15. And we're colleagues, not pals. The law of diminishing returns applies to the VIP Style Awards.

Once you've seen one Z-elebrity posing hand-on-hip, look-at-me style, you've seen them all.

And when you've seen the same dress on three different people on the same night, you've most definitely seen them all.