Fashionista (on hold)

Going Home

I arrive home in my Porsche, and look up at our three story mansion. Built but a year ago when we moved from America to Australia, the changes was difficult for a 15 year old girl, but as my sweet 16th came around, I was settled in and in the "prime of my life" as my mother said. I don't have a boyfriend, with modelling my mums clothes and organising my dad's concerts, the lights, the DJ, the back up dancers. See, my parents are both super famous, my mum being Julia White, and my dad Justin Timberlake. They aren't married yet, they planned to be three years ago, but my mum had to fly over to Paris to shoot one of her labels, but my dad doesn't mind, they plan on taking a year off next year and having it then, but we'll see how it goes! I open the 2 meter high door, and step into this elegantly built palace.

"Hello dear, how was your shopping trip."

"Great! I bought three tops, two pairs of shorts and 5 pairs of shoes- 2 heels and 3 slip ons's! It was soooo much fun! But..."

"But what?"

"I kinda maxed my credit card after the 2 heels were paid for!" I wait for a scolding. But nothing.

"That's okay darling, I am getting paid for the new label of dresses tomorrow, just don't let it happen again, you know show your father feels!?"

"Sorry mum, it won't happen again, and from now on I'll do as dad says, leave at least $200 dollars on their until it gets topped up!" I apologised.

I go up the elevator to my top floor master bedroom with cinema and ensuite and spa. I go to my walk in robe with rotating clothes stand and step into its large surface, I feel slightly off balance as it whisks me off my feet and continues rotating. I hang the clothes in order of dresses, shirts, shorts, skirts and then pants, and then pyjamas, of course in colour order. Then I take the shoes and put them on the rack in the back of the room. I look around, and see perfection.