I feel that is is only appropriate to post a short story I wrote In college as my first blog post…Enjoy!
The pristine smell of crisp cold air pushes out the double doors with an onslaught of the masses rushing in. Vibrant colors and glistening floors entice the buyer and satisfy the onlooker. Designer labels and custom couture are hung delicately on polished cedar wood hangers and placed on the finest of clothing racks. A grandeur of beautifully tailored garments tantalize the wallets of well dressed, affluent females, and as each shopper makes her claim on a particular item of clothing, the line to the sales counter grows increasingly larger.
Shifting through the racks of unrelenting, overpriced apparel is the dedicated shopper, determined to discover the ever illusive bargain. On the far left dimly lit corner of the boutique, lies a slightly tattered, crimson sign reading “sale”. Beneath the sign, the garments are hung sparsely and astray. Many are left to become gifts of charity, but remarkable, buried under a 1986 interpretation of what seems to be a wedding gown, is the perfect garment. The delicate lines and impervious fabric, set of by a luminous glow, announce it to the heavens as by a mere show of its immaculate construction. The few seconds following are filled with emotions similar to the ones might have felt by Michelangelo after his completion of the “Pieta”. Although a mere cocktail dress, it suits well for the most important occasions in a young woman’s life. To find a dress capable of making any women a figure of angelical proportions, can only be defined as a miracle.
The cocktail dress, strategically sprawled out across the dressing room cathedra, is coupled along with a pair of golden strapped, Manolo Blahnik stilettos. In the shoppers leather clutch, there are two scintillating emerald studded earrings placed coincidentally on top of a sepia photograph of a boy and girl. Written on the photograph, the words “remember when” are spelled out close to the serrated edge of the picture. The shopper gracefully slides her body into the garment, without having to contort her physique. While studying the dress in the mirror, she places the sepia photograph on the dressing room corner shelf. After she has taken her moment to reminisce, she kindly gathers her belongings, and unlocks the changing room door.
In the shoppers’ sullen hands, lies a strictly sewn and embroidered cocktail dress with a silken motif. The sales counter pales in comparison to its chartreuse color and most everyone in the boutique has on an envious glow. The whispers quickly disperse throughout the store, until they are hushed by the sudden clamor of the cash register. When the dress has been placed in the satchel, the shopper takes up her prized possession and strut’s proudly out the store, leaving no trace of her masterful discovery.
The pristine smell of crisp cold air pushes out the double doors with an onslaught of the masses rushing in. Many thin figured women with swollen bellies gather round to pick through the remaining maternity apparel. Shifting through the unattractive, unflattering attire is a still slender woman in a strictly sewn and embroidered cocktail dress with a silken motif. The dull attire lining the racks pales in comparison to the shoppers chartreuse dress, but the shopper, undeterred by the un-alluring apparel is determined to find the perfect garment. She knows that underneath the sterile glow of the numerous florescent lights is the embodiment of perfection, an artist’s master piece, merely eclipsed by a mass of blank canvases.