Fallen Cinderella: Il Ballo del Doge 2010, Seven Dreams 7 Seven Sins

Today is the day
And tonight will be the night

We did sleep indeed like royalty in our Palacio chamber. Breakfast is served (we are too late to make it downstairs) in our room, the sun bathing our white bodies in a wonderful warm glow.
I call the reception, just in case there is some news on our suitcases.
NOTHING.
It is pretty awful to be stranded without anything. If times were still normal and traveling still some sort of luxury, I could have my make up and whatever girly stuff I need in my carry on. But theses days, where every Shampoo could be a potential terrorist, I prefer to travel as naked as possible. Hairbrush, powder, lip-balm and mascara. That's all I have, but not all I need! I need my lotion, my face-wash, my conditioner... never mind some fresh undies and maybe clean socks.

We get dressed in our stinky yesterday's wear and go for a leisurely walk in sun drenched Venice. Fog? Rain? Venice is blossoming under the UV caresses and hand in hand we get lost in another fairy-tale adventure.
Ca' Sagredo might not be the most central, but it makes for more reason to get lost in Venice's alleys and just walk...
Well, walk might be an overstatement, as the tiny roads are so busy, that the walk is more like a stop and go. HUMAN TRAFFIC JAM with the most elaborate ensembles. Faces hidden behind masks. Who are you? Who am I?
A dream, a nightmare?
We get a bit annoyed after some time and Prince steers us away from the crowds, into unknown backstreets. Finally some air and time for lunch.
I get a bit edgy, wondering if my luggage has finally arrived. If it doesn't get in soon I will have to buy makeup and some hair designing tools, or I have to bite the sour apple and wear the grey wig, which is part of my flower gown. That would be the easiest solution, if I would just not feel so ancient and ugly with that grey toupee... Prince calls the hotel, but again no news. No suitcase.
I am feeling a bit bummed now.
Slurping some Minestrone my mood turns cloudy.

Bread masks

Poor Prince, he is trying so hard to chase away my storm.
We leave lunch (unexciting) and Prince drags me into the next beauty shop.
Eyeliner, powder, lipstick, hairpins, hairspray, but no curlers.
Actually no curlers to be found anywhere.
Grey wig, you are my destiny for tonight.
Gossshhhh, I will look like a grandma. But ce la vie. Who cares anyhow. I am hidden behind a mask, so if pretty, ugly, old, young, nobody knows... Or so, I tell myself.
Byby for now. Time to doll up for the most famous :