Lustrous

Chapter 13 : Modelling the Right Attire

I stared openly at the twist and turns of the fabric and wondered for a moment, what the hell I was looking at. That wasn't even enough space to put your head through, I pouted in confusion.

Um Sky, I think that's where your arm goes.

Oh. That makes sense.

It was a strange dress.

A disgusting dress.

It was an interesting design.

Terrible design really. The designer must have been extremely drunk or high on some very illegal substances when they drew it out.

It was some type of a wrap.

Like a Mummy.

Only, there were these things.

Kind of like big, ass bulges that made you look fat or like a Mr Men character.

Big bulky triangles for shoulder pads with a diamond shaped neckline that travelled extremely too low for my comfort and the extra padding bulging out of the hips would make even the smallest woman look like they have an elephant hiding in their butt.

And don't forget the colour!

Ah yes, and the colour. It was a deep ugly purple brown colour that looked like something you find in the bottom of a toilet.

"I am not trying this on." I folded my arms across my chest, sure of myself. "It looks like a person threw up on it."

"This is by a top designer, I assure you, you can't get better quality." The sales assistant pressed, her voice sounded slightly insulted as I recoiled at the dress.

I'm pretty sure I can pick up better looking clothes from Target, and cheaper too.

"Stop being over dramatic Sky." Anthony added as he reclined on the circular couch in the store and sipped his complementary soda.

"I am not being over dramatic, this is a travesty on a hanger." I turned to face Anthony.

He rolled his eyes at me and reached down next to him, grabbing a hold of my black beanie that he so graciously stole off my head only minutes ago and throwing it at my head.

"No this is a travesty." He chuckled.

The beanie hit me in the face, the material landing on my tongue as I went to reply.

"Shut up and try the damn thing on before the store closes."

I frowned. "The store closes in five hours."

"And at this rate they will be chasing us out with a mop." It was scary how serious his tone and expression was as he spoke.

"Why do I even have to buy new clothes?" I walked away from the sales assistant and sat myself on the small stool in front of Anthony.

"Because I need you to look like my fiancé, which means wearing clothes that don't make you look like a teenager with no sense of direction and looking like you are actually capable of running a company."

"I'm going to be running a company?" I beamed at the prospect.

"Nope." He put more emphasis on the p. "But they won't know that."

"Can I at least pick the clothes?"

"You think that," He pointed to my current outfit. "Is good styling choice?"

I paused.

I think this is a trick question.

I think so too.