What Should I Wear?

What should I wear?

Silk bandanas, hoop earrings, tight tops and floating silk skirts with a jangling anklet?

Pair it with smoky eye makeup, smooth lip-gloss, and a fresh face?

Or a boxy gold velvet jacket over a silver wrap top and bronze cigarette pants?

With sexy stilettos that sparkle demurely and carry a clutch that matches my jacket down to the buttons?

Have a dewy, tanned complexion highlighted with silvery eye shadow and shimmering cheeks?

Perhaps my fingers, wrists and neck should be bedecked in the most amazing array of green jewelry and my plain green satin dress is nothing but a glorified backdrop that falls elegantly to my knees, the neckline plunging between my small breasts, all the better to show off the twinkling mass of stars captured and wrought into a pure fashion statement?

How about a delightfully peach toned dress that ripples as I move, pale down to the waist, flowing into dark towards my demure mango tint round toe pumps?

And a soft neck line that allow me to go bare-necked, instead wearing shoulder brushing earrings that blind those who look directly at them?

My hair pulled back into a smooth chignon and natural makeup?

That could go with a sleek business suit – tailored jacket that is sits above my hip-hugging pants that elongate my legs, turning me instantly into a catwalk model as I strut forward with the confidence of a head honcho in my spike heeled pumps?

Or should my hair be loose and tousled, to go with my casual orange tee that highlights my Bahamas tan?

And would my supermodel pins be clad in skintight stretch denim jeans that have been whiskered and stone-rolled to well-worn perfection over my designer trainers that sport logos and bright colours?

What if I went to the beach?

Blue tankini, pink one-piece or teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini that I wear with yellow thongs and a large straw sunhat as I lie, slathered in sunscreen, on a yellow towel?

If I were to have a night on the town, could I dress in a red leather miniskirt and a black mesh tank top over a black bra?

With thigh high leather boots with silver buckles and straps and a spiked dog collar plus cuffs and multiple facial piercings?

What if I go to a ball-a fairy-princess dress with a fluffy skirt and a v-neck top with sequins that twinkle in the moonlight as do my glass slippers as I glide around the dance floor with my Prince Charming who goes down on his knee and presents the fiery diamond set into gold?

Perhaps then I will be a princess who wears tailored gowns encrusted with precious stones that glitter in the sun as I roll through the town in an ornamental parade just for my inauguration?

And will my crown be made of fine gold and silver, delicately set with pearls and cut gems that scream beauty and royalty?

Shall I pretend to be a peasant, dressed in plain breeches and tunic, to sneak from my lush castle for a day or normality and simple pleasure?

Or, if that were never to happen, what would I wear?