Leaves [gxg]

4

4

She had almost emptied her entire wardrobe, laying every item upon her bed in a distinct order. Some of the piles were four or five items deep and still she couldn't think what she should wear. The only things that remained upon the rails were a bridesmaid dress she had worn for her sister's wedding, a long, gorgeous coat, that she had never worn, and a few more risqué items she had bought on a whim and only ever worn in front of the full length mirrors of the wardrobe doors.

All her dresses were now laid in order of how much she liked them, from 'why did I ever buy this', to 'I love this! But I am afraid to wear it too often through fear of wearing it out'. The skirts, blouses and other tops were set out in combinations, with emphasis on the long ones that she preferred to wear.

She had already decided what to wear three times, but, before reaching the door to her bedroom, she had started to remove them again, wondering what she was thinking. The thick jumper on top of the straight, burgundy skirt, that trailed along the floor, she rejected because the skirt would pick up dirt if they walked in the fields of tea. That, and she felt the entire ensemble acted like some kind of armour, proclaiming to a woman, that had shown no interest in her, that she was not, in any way, shape or form, available.

The flirty, flowery, Summer dress, with puffed sleeves, balcony cut chest and loose pleats screamed 'girly' and 'innocent'. She had never been a prolific dater, but she was not 'innocent'. At least, she didn't feel innocent. She was a woman of the world. She ran her own business. She had dated! Not much and not often, but she had. More than that, she knew the dress had a tendency to become see-through with the Sun at the back. That would seem like a stealth seduction. All sweet and cute, but, oh, you can see my underwear? Giggle.

She had removed that dress, putting it back on the hanger and hiding it beneath everything else. This was not the time for Cutey McFlirty! Now, she stood before the mirror in a sweet, Bohemian skirt that fell to her ankles. That wouldn't trail in any dirt, and the material was thick enough to avoid 'accidental' flashing of underwear, but thin enough not to make her sweat like a wrestler.

She felt in two minds about the top. She had a white blouse, of similar material, that tied at the chest, leaving a keyhole glimpse of her skin, blouson, crimped material over her breasts and a flared waist. That was nice. Or a thin, capped sleeve, t-shirt that clung to her body, even though it was not tight. She never understood how that worked, but it did.

That was it. That was the one. And no amount of thinking and worrying and going through various, improbable scenarios would change her mind. She already knew what jacket she would wear, the short-waisted, black denim one, and her footwear, the plain, white trainers with the bubbled, moulded sole that made her feel as though she bounced when she walked.

Closing the wardrobe doors, she gave herself a little spin in front of the mirrors. Everything looked fine. More than fine. The outfit didn't scream either 'date', or 'unavailable'. It felt neutral without feeling neutral and how she came to that conclusion, she would never know. It needed a little something extra. An accessory of some kind.

Not a watch. She hated watches, even though she had four of them. A couple of little, dainty things that she found difficult to read the faces of, one large, ostentatious watch that made her wrist ache after only a few minutes, and the smart watch that told her how unfit she was. She despised the wicked lies of that watch.

In a flash of sheer brilliance, she pulled out her dressing table drawer and picked up perfection. A black, velvet choker with a tiny, dangling silver heart attached. She had received a number of compliments about her neck, in the past, and the choker was the perfect opportunity to show off one of her best features. Once fastened, it wasn't too uncomfortable, either.