A letter from a reader

At 62, I had hidden my arms under a cardigan for so long I had forgotten what a summer dress felt like.

I almost did not write this down, because it is only a dress and I am not the sort of woman who gets excited about that sort of thing any more. But three different women stopped to ask me about it at a garden lunch on Saturday, and when that happens at 62 you start to think there might be something in it.

It was my arms, mostly, and the middle. Somewhere in my fifties I decided the tops of my arms were not for showing any more, and so every summer I did the same thing. I put a cardigan on over the pretty sleeveless dresses and then I was too warm, or I gave up on the dresses altogether and wore something loose and shapeless that covered me but did nothing for me. Either way I felt hot, or frumpy, and usually both.

I had decided that covering myself up and looking nice were two different dresses, and never the same one.

So I stopped looking, and told myself it did not matter at my age.

Then I saw it on a friend

A friend of mine had one on at a coffee morning, sleeves and all, and looked so cool and graceful that I assumed she must be roasting, and she was not a bit. It is from Nottingham Boutique, a little boutique that has been quietly looking after women our age for a few years, and they had their summer sale on. It is called the Selma, a soft blue and white floral maxi, the sort of print that never dates. I ordered mine that same evening before I could talk myself out of it.

What happened at the lunch

I wore it to a garden lunch on the first really warm day, half braced to be too hot in the sleeves. Instead I was perfectly comfortable, and three separate women came over to ask me where it was from. Three. My friend Sue said I looked like I had made an effort, which coming from Sue I have decided to take as a compliment.

That was the moment it clicked for me. I had spent years believing I had to choose between covering up and looking lovely, and here was one dress that quietly did both.

Three things I have learned since

One. The sleeves are the whole point. They are long, so the tops of my arms are covered and I do not give them a second thought all day, but the fabric is so light and airy that I stay cool in it. Covered and cool at last, which I had rather stopped believing was possible.

Two. It skims, it does not cling. The loose tiered skirt falls straight down over the middle rather than clinging to it, so I feel graceful instead of wrapped up. It flatters without me having to breathe in.

Three. It does as it is told. The buttons down the front mean I can open the collar a little or do it right up, dress it down with my flat sandals or up with a bit of jewellery. It has quietly become the thing I reach for whenever it is warm.

About the price

I will be honest, when I saw the price in the sale I was a bit suspicious. A dress that covers this well and looks this pretty usually costs a great deal more, and it turns out it usually does.

The Selma is £37.95. It was £76.00.

There was no catch. It arrived quickly, it was every bit as light and cool as my friend promised, and it looked exactly like the picture, which we all know is not always the way.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered, because I could hardly believe it. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some sites, which if I am honest made me trust it more. One woman had written, "The first summer dress in years that hides my arms and still makes me feel pretty." That was the one that decided it for me.

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 years hiding your arms under a cardigan even in the heat, or reaching for something loose and shapeless because at least it covers you, then it is worth ten minutes of your evening to go and have a look.

Not because a dress will change your life. It will not. But there is something in stepping out on a warm day feeling both covered and rather lovely, 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, half of what it was, and the middle sizes go first, which I found out because the size I wanted had nearly sold out by the time I went back to tell a friend. And once the summer stock has sold through, that is it until next year.

I have not reached for the cardigan once since it arrived.

Caroline