Despite my general lack of tact, I managed. I was positively charming or so I like to think. That was until this lady came into the salon one day.
I could do nothing but blink politely as she brandished a picture of a girl, my age, dressed in a purple frou-frou dress and hair that was so high it appeared to be concealing a turnip.
I tried really hard to think of something nice to say.
Her reaction to my question was one of absolute disgust. No this was not for a dance recital or any other showcase that traditionally involves caking on the make-up and liberal amounts of glitter.
And did I reply with the obvious apology and brush it off professionally with the charm of a sophisticated receptionist? I did not.