CHAPTER FIVE
Flora spent almost an hour in a piled up haze, styling her hair, applying her make up for the first time, squeezing herself into a red dress. The ten minutes she spent wrestling herself into her spanx weren’t terrible. She was not a fashion victim nor was she a fashion bystander. She couldn’t tell between Dolce & Gabbana and Ralph Lauren but she felt hot and sexy. She didn’t know what their little designer signature were and didn’t care because she felt those who cared were clueless. And because they reminded her of her mother.
“It’s a fashion statement.” Her friends would tell her. The reason why she maintained her friends for so long was because they share similar tastes in books, music and creating things. Her friends are good with fashion, with her it’s ad campaigns. Her world is media and PR. People think its crazy but fashion, glamor, and adverts are somehow connected.
“You look beautiful.” Her mother said as she came down the stairs, while Flora narrowed her eyes. She carried a pair of Jimmy Choo, one of the surviving pair she promised not to wear.
“Thank you.” Her mother never expected that kind of polite response from her. She looked like a new person.
“You look exquisite.” Ricky said as he approached her. Angie’s eyes and cheeks flashed red.