Hey girlies!” the shop assistant exclaims, handing out glasses of prosecco. She wheels over a rack of wedding dresses and introduces them one by one. “This is Zoe, everyone meet Zoeee!” she squeals. “She’s quite fragile, but she slips on super nicely. Go and try her on...” Moments later, we meet Daisy. “Oh, now she is truly special. She has a little train that she likes to be clipped up before the dancing starts. Let’s just undo her buttons…” Next, we meet Cordelia, Agnes, Rosie, Thea… and on it goes. My friend, the bride-to-be, notices the rest of us looking a bit queasy. “I know,” she whispers, her face going red under her veil. “It’s been like this at every shop.”
Now, obviously this was a very happy day – I was going shopping for a wedding dress with my best friend! – but the way the shop assistant kept referring to the dresses like they were actual living women (or a litter of rescue puppies waiting to be adopted) made me, well, sad. It made me sad because she was taking a modern quirk of language that I love and spoiling it. I’m a big fan of the trend that’s emerged in recent years of referring to objects as “she” and “her” – some corners of Mumsnet think it’s sexist, but I think it’s funny and playful, and injects a bit of flair and glamour into the mundane.
