A letter from a reader

At 67, I dreaded every warm day, because nothing I owned was both cool enough and covered enough

I have never written anything like this before, and I want to say at the start that I am not a writer and I am not in the habit of telling other women what to wear.

But three different women asked me about this dress while I was away last week, and I have now explained it enough times that it seemed easier to write it down properly.

For a good few years now I have quietly dreaded warm weather. Not the sunshine itself, but the getting dressed for it. Everything sleeveless left my arms out on show, and everything that covered them was hot, or heavy, or cut like a tent.

Cool, or covered. On a fuller figure, it always seemed you could only have one.

So I spent my summers in the same dark, shapeless things, too warm and not at all myself, waiting for September.

I did not choose that. Nobody sets out to spend the summer hiding. It happens quietly, one dark, safe, shapeless dress at a time.

How it happens

If you are a fuller figure and you go looking for a summer dress, you will know exactly what I mean.

The pretty, floaty things are cut for somebody half my size and leave the arms bare. And the things made in my size are so often the same dark, heavy, apologetic shapes, as though a larger woman should want to disappear rather than enjoy the sunshine.

So you give up, buy the black shift again, and put up with being too warm and not quite yourself all summer.

What I had wrong

Here is the bit I got most wrong. I had decided that cool and covered and flattering simply could not come together, not for a figure like mine.

It turns out they can, and the clever thing is the cape. This dress has a soft chiffon cape layer that floats over the shoulders and the tops of the arms, so they are covered without a cardigan and without any heat. Underneath, the chiffon skims straight over everything rather than clinging, and the print is so bright and joyful that you feel lit up rather than hidden.

Cool, covered, and cheerful, all at once. That is the combination I had assumed did not exist, and it took me until 67 to find it.

The dress is called the Judith

It is from Manchester Boutique, a small British boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now.

The dress is called the Judith. A floaty chiffon dress in a vibrant print, with that lovely cape layer over the shoulders, a soft elasticated waist and a flowing skirt, cut generously and made with a fuller figure in mind. There are other prints as well, which I will come back to.

It is wonderfully light and it breathes, which on a hot day makes all the difference. The cape floats rather than sits, so nothing feels tight across the top, and the skirt drapes and moves rather than clinging. It does not crease when you sit, either, which anyone who has travelled in a dress will appreciate.

That is really all there is to it. It is not complicated. It is just a summer dress that somebody actually thought about, for a change.

What happened on holiday

I wore it for the first time to dinner on holiday, with flat sandals and my good earrings.

Three women asked me where it was from. Three, in one evening. One of them had spent her own holiday, she said, in the same hot black dress she always packs.

My friend told me I looked radiant. After the summers I had been dreading, that was rather lovely to hear.

What I noticed more than the compliments, though, was that I was comfortable. Not once did I tug at anything, or reach for a cover-up, or wish I had stayed in. I was cool, I was covered, and I stopped thinking about my shape entirely.

I have worn it half a dozen times since, to garden lunches and to potter about at home. That is the rarest sort of dress. The one that keeps you cool, covers what you would like covered, and makes you feel bright rather than hidden.

Three things I have learned since

One. The cape does the work. It covers the tops of the arms without a cardigan and without any heat, which for me was the whole thing. No more black long sleeves in July.

Two. Chiffon is kind to a fuller figure. It skims straight over everything rather than clinging, so you feel graceful and cool rather than wrapped up.

Three. The sizing is honest and generous. It runs from a UK 8 all the way to a 24, cut properly for a fuller figure, not simply a smaller dress made bigger. I wish more places would bother with that.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about this, because it was the thing that made me suspicious.

The Judith is £28.95. It was £48.00.

My first thought, honestly, was that there had to be a catch, because a dress this pretty that actually fits and flatters usually costs a great deal more.

There is no catch that I have found. They are a small boutique selling directly, so there is no department store taking a cut in the middle, and they run a summer sale to shift the season's stock before it turns.

I did what I imagine you are doing now and went and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some websites, which if I am honest made me trust it rather more. Real people, mixed opinions, mostly very good.

Then I ordered a second print for the rest of the summer.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sat in the garden and you asked me, this is what I would say.

If you have spent the last few summers hiding in the same dark, shapeless things because nothing felt both cool and covered, then it is worth ten minutes of your evening to go and look.

Not because a dress will change your life. It will not. But there is something in enjoying the summer instead of enduring it, and feeling bright rather than hidden, that I had quietly given up on, and I would rather you did not give up on it too.

Two practical things. The sale is on at the moment, and the middle sizes are the ones that go first. And once the summer stock has sold through, that is it until next year.

I am not dreading the warm days any more, and that is worth a great deal.

Maggie