Agnes
The following morning, I stood in the design department’s fabric storeroom, surrounded by endless bolts of luxurious materials. How long had I been in here? Minutes? Hours?
The sketches for my new dress were complete, and the patterns were cut, but I still couldn’t decide on a color. After the disaster with the emerald gown, I wanted something different, something that would make a statement without reminding anyone of the fashion show incident.
My fingers traced over a bolt of midnight blue silk, then moved to a deep burgundy velvet. Neither felt right. The dress design was bold, almost armor-like with its structured bodice and dramatic lines. It needed a color that would complement the design without overpowering it.
I pulled out my phone to snap pictures of a few s
