Was feeling particularly radiant this morning, having bought a Nicole Fahri dress.

Was in the sale but still cost a ridiculous amount of money, bearing in mind it is a tiny dress which couldn't have taken terribly long to run up.

Dress a lovely shade of lilac, which shop assistant assured me made me look Michelle Pfeiffer and was definitely something I wouldn't regret handing over credit card for.

Obviously, I thought she had a point, because I handed over credit card and am now wearing dress.

But point seemed to be reinforced by reaction of fellow passengers on way to work, who were looking at me in an interested sort of way and smiling to themselves.

Presumed that they were smiling because, by looking so lovely and interesting in my lilac dress, I had lifted their spirits a little.

This thought lifted my spirits, so I smiled to myself and everybody was smiling and happy.

And the other great thing about the dress was, since it was smart enough to go to work in but casual enough to go out in, it solved all those "what shall I wear today?" dilemmas and meant I could get up, wonder what to wear, remember dress, put it on and leave the house, in space of about five minutes.

Thus, it prevented me from missing trains because I was wondering what to wear and trying to find things that went with other things that were clean and then having to iron them.

So, had left the house in state of Audrey Hepburn-like serenity, in simple but stylish dress, and was now receiving approving glances from other people on the train.

Several people looked at me, after I removed my jacket to reveal dress in all its simple glory, and the man I sat next to smiled in a furtive sort of way, when I sat next to him.

Then, when I got up to go to the buffet car, shortly after the train had stopped at Haywards Heath, the ticket inspector said, "Morning, madam" in an unusually loud and pointed way, which I presumed was because he had suddenly caught a glimpse of me in lilac dress and had had his breath taken away by vision of loveliness and was unable to think of anything else to say.

When I came back with a cup of tea, blond athletic man from Hassocks looked up and raised his eyebrows and somebody even wolf whistled.

By this time I was feeling rather expensive dress was worth every single penny and must go back to shop and get several more expensive dresses, so could enjoy the sort of reaction I was getting every day.

As I sat down again, the man next to me looked as if he was about to say something but was momentarily diverted when my phone, which I'd left in bag which I'd placed on overhead luggage rack, began to ring.

I stood up, got bag down and retrieved phone, which had by this time stopped ringing (caller's number withheld).

So all the standing up and fiddling about was a wasted effort - though it did give people in carriage chance to see how well dress hung again.

The man sitting next to me looked as if he was about to say something again but obviously thought better of it and returned to his paper. So I smiled at Hassocks, who raised his eyebrows again, at which point the woman sitting next to him got up and came over to me.

"Excuse me," she said. "Look, I hope you don't mind me saying this but ... your dress is not zipped up at the back."