you to promise me you’ll trust my styling judgement. Okay?”
I take a deep breath. “Okay. I trust you.”
***
Two hours later, I’m swiping my debit card for a purchase of five hundred and sixty dollars. It’s not Dawn’s fault though, because not only did she give me a forty percent discount, which saved me a ton of money, she repeatedly told me I didn’t need to buy so much if I didn’t want to. But I shook my head and demanded to get nearly one of everything she had me try on.
The woman is a genius.
“Us curvy women need to dress for our shape,” she’d said as she tossed me a pair of leggings and an off-the-shoulder top over the door of the fitting room. “That’s how you look like your sexiest self.”
Boy, was she right.
I’ve never before felt the way I did as I looked at myself in the tall mirrors of the fitting room. I wasn’t a super model or anything, but I looked . . . nice. These leggings really are a miracle.
They come in all kinds of colors and patterns, some long and some capri length. There are some for working out and others that are a little dressy which you can pair with heels and a long shirt that’s pretty much a dress. They’re all so beautiful and many of them have glitter or sparkles, which until now, I had no idea I loved.
I also got a few pairs of ballet flats and flip flops. My usual baggy T-shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers fad is officially over. I’ve never felt more feminine or happy about myself in my whole life.
This is the start of a new me.
“You know, you should get a tan,” Dawn says as she piles all of my new clothes into shopping bags. “Not too much, of course, you want to keep your skin nice and wrinkle-free, but just a little sun will do wonders.” She leans forward, cupping her hand to her mouth like she’s telling me a secret. “Tan skin makes you look thinner.” She winks and I grin.
“Of course, you’re not as big as you think you are,” she says, shoving more clothing into bags. “All your sizes are medium, so I don’t want to hear any more of that fat talk, okay?”
I heave a sigh. “It’s medium in women’s sizes which are different from junior’s. I’m like a size extra, extra, extra large in those clothes.”
She waves her hand at me. “Men don’t want to date a junior . They want a woman . I promise.”
I smile up at her and hook some of the bags on my hands. It’ll be a long walk back to my car with all of this stuff. Of course, now that I’m feeling confident in my new wardrobe, I don’t exactly want to go home just yet.
“Do you think I could change into one of these outfits before I leave?” I ask her.
She grins. “Absolutely. I’d choose the pink top.”
“Good choice,” I say, digging it out of the bag. I practically skip to the fitting room and change out of my old clothes and into a pair of black leggings, silver sparkly flip flops, and the pink top. It’s neon pink and has a neckline that makes it look like my boobs are something people want to look at. The color goes great with the blond streaks in my hair, and I’m feeling more confident than ever when I wear it.
After dropping my shopping bags into the trunk of my car, I walk back up the strip and cross over to the beach. With my new flip flops in my hands, I let the warm sand sink between my toes. I tip my head back and let the sun warm me, the salty air filling my lungs. It feels good to be out here on the beach with all of the other normal people.
I breathe in deeply and tell myself this day is the start of a new life for Bess Navarre. I’ll start going out and doing things. When Maddie gets back home, I’ll stop denying her invites to the beach and the mall. I’m going to be more open and I’m going to have fun.
I’ve never felt better.
And then a football comes flying from out of nowhere and smacks me in the shoulder so hard, I’m knocked straight to the sand. I cry out in pain and shock, the impact seeming to hurt more
I take a deep breath. “Okay. I trust you.”
***
Two hours later, I’m swiping my debit card for a purchase of five hundred and sixty dollars. It’s not Dawn’s fault though, because not only did she give me a forty percent discount, which saved me a ton of money, she repeatedly told me I didn’t need to buy so much if I didn’t want to. But I shook my head and demanded to get nearly one of everything she had me try on.
The woman is a genius.
“Us curvy women need to dress for our shape,” she’d said as she tossed me a pair of leggings and an off-the-shoulder top over the door of the fitting room. “That’s how you look like your sexiest self.”
Boy, was she right.
I’ve never before felt the way I did as I looked at myself in the tall mirrors of the fitting room. I wasn’t a super model or anything, but I looked . . . nice. These leggings really are a miracle.
They come in all kinds of colors and patterns, some long and some capri length. There are some for working out and others that are a little dressy which you can pair with heels and a long shirt that’s pretty much a dress. They’re all so beautiful and many of them have glitter or sparkles, which until now, I had no idea I loved.
I also got a few pairs of ballet flats and flip flops. My usual baggy T-shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers fad is officially over. I’ve never felt more feminine or happy about myself in my whole life.
This is the start of a new me.
“You know, you should get a tan,” Dawn says as she piles all of my new clothes into shopping bags. “Not too much, of course, you want to keep your skin nice and wrinkle-free, but just a little sun will do wonders.” She leans forward, cupping her hand to her mouth like she’s telling me a secret. “Tan skin makes you look thinner.” She winks and I grin.
“Of course, you’re not as big as you think you are,” she says, shoving more clothing into bags. “All your sizes are medium, so I don’t want to hear any more of that fat talk, okay?”
I heave a sigh. “It’s medium in women’s sizes which are different from junior’s. I’m like a size extra, extra, extra large in those clothes.”
She waves her hand at me. “Men don’t want to date a junior . They want a woman . I promise.”
I smile up at her and hook some of the bags on my hands. It’ll be a long walk back to my car with all of this stuff. Of course, now that I’m feeling confident in my new wardrobe, I don’t exactly want to go home just yet.
“Do you think I could change into one of these outfits before I leave?” I ask her.
She grins. “Absolutely. I’d choose the pink top.”
“Good choice,” I say, digging it out of the bag. I practically skip to the fitting room and change out of my old clothes and into a pair of black leggings, silver sparkly flip flops, and the pink top. It’s neon pink and has a neckline that makes it look like my boobs are something people want to look at. The color goes great with the blond streaks in my hair, and I’m feeling more confident than ever when I wear it.
After dropping my shopping bags into the trunk of my car, I walk back up the strip and cross over to the beach. With my new flip flops in my hands, I let the warm sand sink between my toes. I tip my head back and let the sun warm me, the salty air filling my lungs. It feels good to be out here on the beach with all of the other normal people.
I breathe in deeply and tell myself this day is the start of a new life for Bess Navarre. I’ll start going out and doing things. When Maddie gets back home, I’ll stop denying her invites to the beach and the mall. I’m going to be more open and I’m going to have fun.
I’ve never felt better.
And then a football comes flying from out of nowhere and smacks me in the shoulder so hard, I’m knocked straight to the sand. I cry out in pain and shock, the impact seeming to hurt more
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