My parents left, I was alone here in this place, this place was like a beehive. Somebody sat me down and took out a brush and brushed so ferociously that I yelped, and all the hair stylist did was glare at me.
After brushing they put spray on my hair, then they straightened my hair, and the straightener was so hot that there were red marks on my neck. After one hour and 30 minutes of dealing with my hair, a make up artist came. All the other models were here too.
I liked the make-up artist, she was a very chatty and illuminated woman, she talked to me while she applied blush the color of rose. And thick pasty cream, she let me look at her collection of lipstick colors. From the palest coral to the brightest electronic splash of hot pink. I wanted to use the hot pink shade, but the make-up artist told me it wouldn't fit what I was going to wear. Instead I got a shade of cherry blood red lipstick.
The make-up artists's name was Bella.
Next, I was lead to a room where there were closets and dresses, shoes, tops, shorts and pants, that collection of clothes could dress a whole village in Africa and there would still be spare.
YOU ARE READING
The Designer Girl
Teen FictionSasha's a model, well almost- at least. But being its a model has its ups and downs, especially if you were FORCED to do it. It's time Sasha faces ongoing family problems, even if that means chasing and hunting for a dark secret that has to be unc...
