I hope I used the word correctly.

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I know a woman (indeed I know several, but that’s another story); I know a woman of ripening years who appears at all the best soirées in Dublin dressed in fabulous gowns that suggest the callipygian rondure of a somewhat younger lass. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a posh do in Dublin where Nora hasn’t made a noticeable appearance. She is always last to arrive, finds an eligible gentleman with whom to leave, usually younger than she but not always, while the other ladies turn green with envy; unchosen gentlemen are left bouche-bée, staring at the callipygian delight as it retreats into the darkness. While there is a large dollop of truth in this tale, I tell it only to demonstrate my new word of the week - callipygian. I do hope you’ll find some suitable occasion on which to use it to pep up what might otherwise be a rather prosaic conversation this week. It must be used within the next seven days or you forfeit the right to do so.