At Ridge, where Gamel Nasser Avenue deceives to fly over the Police HQ, I watched a tight, green, Afric-fabric frock ‘hallmarked’ with delightful petals...on a milk-choc mannequin on the move. Loose, flair-sleeves, rich-blue, florid frills like garlands on the neck. Sitting on her body like the immaculate skin of a flawless fruit. Frivolously creased at the hamper-hips, where the dress rode up. Why did she have to go and tug it downwards? Our little love affair was quickly done.