Fashion Disaster

Chapter 6

The mall had a sleek, clean and dominantly white design: with a large red chandelier, bedazzled with lights and other small ornaments, spiraling down from the ceiling. There were long, elegant escalators  that reached floor after floor, some so high up it made me dizzy;  almost as if they were reaching for the heavens. Each floor had lights  adorning the walls, hanging down low like falling stars that twinkled welcomingly. People bustled excitedly about and I had to duck and turn to avoid running into some.

     My mouth must've been agape, because Lola chuckled. "You remind me of myself when I first stumbled across this place. Beaugrenelle Paris...has a nice ring to it, no?"

     A/N: I highly recommend some of you look up images of Beaugrenelle Paris—it is a gorgeous mall!

     "And a nice look, too."

     "A bloody nice look," She laughed, calling out my understatement. Lola whipped out a card from her purse, a devilish grin slicing away her normally bright, sunny features. "Now are you ready to do some shopping?"

***

      I thought I'd been shopping before. Apparently I was mistaken. Sorely,  sorely mistaken. My feet ached so horridly in my flats that I felt as if  they'd swollen up a size bigger. Every step made me wish it was my  last. My arms cramped with pain, boxes and bags overflowing with clothes  towering above my head.

     I had downgraded from model to pack animal.

     Lola skipped happily along, her own bags she carried twirling carelessly all the way. She even was joyous enough to hum a merry tune; one that seemed to, as of now, mock my very existence. 

     "Can we go back to the condo now?"

     She  looked at me as if I were ludicrous. "But we're just getting started!  We haven't even gotten what we came here for: the dresses!"

      Her lip jutted out in a pitiful pout, violet eyes pleading. I sighed,  back slumping. If Grandma were here, she'd correct my posture. But  luckily for me; she wasn't.

     "Okay, fine.We get these dresses and then we leave. Capisce?" 

     "Ka-pee-shuh," She sounded the word out slowly, as if tasting it on her tongue. "I love that word. Anyway, I suppose... and this'll be the funnest part!"

      I mentally cringed—I'd always been a bit of a grammar perfectionist,  even more so with Theo's influence, but I was too kind (and out of  breath) to correct her. So I instead nodded submissively, and her smile in return was so grand and beautiful it seemed to rival the sunrise breaking over a mountaintop; so much so I didn't even protest as she tugged me along to the next shop.

     When inside I lay down my belongings inside on the waiting bench, I could almost feel my  arms giving me a silent thank you. It was a fabrics shop. People were  browsing and feeling various cloths, inspecting both the pattern and material. Interns of fashion designers—designers like  my grandmother—had their arms, much like mine once were, piled high  with overflowing bags while some still attempting a coffee in a hand.

     "This isn't a dress shop," I muttered obviously. What was Lola doing? Attempting to get more time here? 

      She beamed. "For normal people, no, of course not. But Alice; we are  far from normal." She tapped my nose with a carefully manicured finger  as if she found my confusion endearing. "The owner of this shop is one  of Nana's—your grandmother's—dear friends. While Ms. Sinclair is a  fashion designer, the owner of this place helps her designs come to life."