We heard the bright sounds of a raucous gypsy brass band before we saw it: a home-grown circus had sprung up in a vacant lot near the train station on the outskirts of Prague, the kind of eerie mirage that hummed a pied-piper melody of dancing bears and young girls on tightropes audible only to children and restless wanderers.  The glow of the yellow and red silk tents bloomed on the horizon, rising straight from the parched dust, awash in swirling lights and accordion music.  

 

We abandoned all pretenses and ran towards the ticket booth, pulling pocketfuls of change from our dresses and buying up the hand-drawn tickets.  As the sun set, we scampered onto the carousel, climbing onto painted ostrich, tiger, and pony and felt the joy of simplicity spin us around and around in the cool fall air. 

 

All that night, even after the show was over—the elephants and unicycles away for the night—and we stayed behind, talking softly in German and Russian and broken Czech to the eleventh-generation circus boys, their mothers' names tattooed over their hearts and visible through mesh shirts; after the old ringmaster had removed his top hat and false mustache; joined us in worn work pants a Baltika in one hand, the leash of a baby tiger in the other— even as I wondered how I found myself here in such company, the joy of the carousel ride could not escape me.  

 

The Carousel Collection embodies that joy.  Bright colors, bold patterns and playful ruffles aren't pretending to be the new little black dress.  This is about having something beautiful to wear that puts a smile on your face just thinking about it—the same kind of smile you'd get kicking your shoes off and running through the grass, buying a cloud of cotton candy the size of your great aunt Mertyl's beehive, holding hands with your sweetheart on the ferries wheel.  Go ahead, slip on a Carousel dress and see how it feels…