The True Story of Collectif’s Dolores Doll Pencil Dress

Everyone, this is Dolores. Dolores, this is everyone.

(Er, you’re all getting that Dolores is the dress, right? I’m still Amber. Glad to have cleared that up…)

Dolores here was a gift from the kind people over at Collectif, and as you know, any time I meet a dress with a name, I find myself wanting to know its story. (Well, twice I’ve done that, anyway. You can read the previous stories-of-dresses here and here, if you’re particularly interested.) So the night Dolores arrived, I got out some whisky glasses and stood polishing them behind the kitchen table (I know, it would be better if it was a bar, but we don’t have one. Note to self: get a bar.) while Dolores pulled up a stool. “Scotch on the rocks,” said Dolores. “Strong.” So I poured her a strong one and slid it over, and then I kept ’em comin’ while Dolores told me her story.

Growing up dirt poor in Kansas, all Dolly – you can call her Dolly – ever wanted to do was sing. She worked nights at the old Roadhouse out by the highway, and when her shift was over, she’d get up on the makeshift stage, and sing her heart out – and when Dolly sang, everyone stopped to listen. Because she was terrible. Yeah, that’s right, you heard me: you all thought this was going to be a rags-to-riches tale, didn’t you? Well, sorry to disappoint, but nope, life’s not like that. Dolly couldn’t sing to save her life, but she was a girl with a dream, so she saved up her tips, and one day she boarded a Greyhound bound for Hollywood. Dolly’s momma cried as the bus pulled away – she knew her baby wasn’t coming home, and she was right. Because when Dolly got to Hollywood, she realised there were a thousand girls, just like her – only some of them could sing.

Dolly had one thing left, though, and that was her looks, so she got a job working as a Marilyn Monroe lookalook outside Mann’s Chinese Theatre. The pay wasn’t much, but she got to be in a lot of people’s Instagram photos, and that was the main thing. Now the folks back home call her, “Our Very Own Marilyn Monroe” and one time a tourist even asked for her autograph. Well, it’s a start, right? And one she’ll make the big time: she just knows it…

WEARING: Dolores Doll pencil dress c/o Collectif; Vivienne Westwood for Melissa Lady Dragon Cherries shoes