Page 16 of Enzo

I don’t like putting goop on my face, and I’d rather spend the time doing something else, like having an extra ten minutes in bed before I need to get up.

She’s given me some good advice for the ball. She told me not to wear stilettos or heels because Venice has cobbled streets. I wish I could wear my sneakers, but this dress looks so much better in heels. I can't walk in stilettos, but my espadrille wedges solve the problem. They give me height and they’re comfortable.

I turn around as I look at my reflection in the mirror. It's got greasy streaks on it, and the light in here is dim. I can't see myself too clearly, but what I see, makes my heart stop. I look ... unrecognizable. My long hair falls in waves over my shoulders. I spend far longer on it than I normally would, and for once it seems to have behaved. Also, my dress does looks amazing, if I say so myself.

There’s just one thing I need to add. I pull out my white faux-fur evening jacket and slip into it. It’s cropped at the waist and so very soft, I could snuggle my face against it for hours and happily fall asleep.

It’s fluffy enough to make me feel glamorous. I picked it up in a thrift store. Kiki wrinkled her nose up at me, but I love it. I especially love that it's faux fur.

I hold up my Colombina mask. It covers my eyes, nose and upper cheeks, and is decorated with delicate gold sequins and swirls and tiny sparkling crystals. A small stick at the side means I can simply hold it up to my face.

I'm ready for an adventure, for whatever tonight brings. Kiki told me to look out for a rich guy.

“Don’t worry if he's a dinosaur,” she said, but I wrinkled my nose at that. Why would I want a rich guy, or a dinosaur?

I'm not looking out for anyone.

I’m excited just to be here, to see how some people live. I’m wondering how many people does the Doge’s Palace hold? I wonder if it’s as big as Oakleigh?

But more than that, I want to soak in every second of my time there, because it will probably be my only chance to ever be at an event like this and I want to remember my evening there forever.

I’m about to leave my hotel room when I stop. Oh my days! I almost forgot my hairy caterpillars!

That’s what I call the false eyelashes Kiki insisted I buy. She said they’d transform my face, and she wouldn’t listen to my protests about not wanting to fiddle about with these things. She bought them for me. I pull them out of my small makeup bag and make a face. They’re hideously long. For a second I consider not gluing them on.

Kiki insisted I get ridiculously long ones, and I stupidly listened to her on this occasion. I wish hadn't, because they don't look right, and when I hold them against my eyes, they look even worse, so I take a nail cutter to them.

It’s not perfect. The ends are slightly jagged, but they’re better than they were. At least, I think so.

I run a thin line of glue along the first strip, wait a few seconds, then carefully press it as close to my lashes as I can. It takes me three attempts to get both of them on.

I blink at myself in the mirror.

Then blink again.

I step back. They look different, and they feel strange. Like I have something on my eyelid I want to shake off. But they do make a difference. They accentuate my eyes, which is not a bad thing. I peer closer and examine the eyelashes again. They're not straight, and now they're not even the same length. One eyelash is shorter than the other. On closer inspection they look odd, but who will notice given that most of my face will be covered by the mask?

I examine my reflection in the dirty mirror again, turning around slowly to see myself from every angle. My heart jumps because I feel like a different person.

Excitement courses through my veins. I’m not even there yet, but already I am beyond excited. I can’t wait to be there. I gather my belongings. I have my clutch bag in one hand, and my mask in the other. The baton is too long and the mask too big to fit into my tiny clutch, but at least it can hold my phone. I fold the invite and slip that into my bag, but I can already see I’m going to have a lot to juggle, and this dress has no pockets.

Regardless, I set off, following the directions on my cell phone as I make my way on foot to the Palace.

And when I finally see it, I stop.

Wow.

I knew the Doge’s Palace was beautiful. I’d seen the pictures online. But pictures don’t come close to standing in front of the real thing. It’s enormous, all pale stone and arches and rows of delicate windows. It has a magnificent, ethereal feel about it.

For a moment, I stand there and stare.

I’m a kindergarten teacher from Chicago who has never travelled outside the US before, and now I’m in Venice. About to attend a masked ball. At the Doge’s Palace.

How did this happen?

A small queue has formed near the entrance, and I join the back of it. That’s when I start looking properly at the other guests.

Oh my days.