That's just exactly what I am thinking of

Aunt Belle:
Pres has always loved you in white. If he isn't simply bowled over by it, I won't know what to think. Julie:
[speaking to an assistant who carries off A red dress]
Wait a minute. Bring that over here. Saucy, isn't it? Aunt Belle:
And vulgar! Julie:
Yes, isn't it? Come on, get me out of this. Aunt Belle:
Julie, what are you doing? Julie:
If it fits me, I'm gonna wear it to the Olympus Ball. Aunt Belle:
A red dress to the Olympus Ball? Why, you're out of your senses. Julie:
...Mary Vickers couldn't possibly do it justice. Aunt Belle:
Child, you're out of your mind. You know you can't wear red to the Olympus Ball. Julie:
Can't I? I'm going to. This is 1852, dumpling, 1852! Not the Dark Ages. Girls don't have to simper around in white just because they're not married. Aunt Belle:
In New Orleans, they do. Julie, you'd insult every woman on the floor. Mme. Poulard:
Mademoiselle, your aunt, she's right. Look how beautiful this dress is. Julie:
Will you kindly get me out of this? Aunt Belle:
Julie, you can't be serious. Julie:
Never more serious in my life. Aunt Belle:
But Julie, think of Pres. Julie:
That's just exactly what I am thinking of