I step up to the red dress like I’m facing a firing squad. Picking it up gingerly, I hold it up against my naked body.
I don’t have to know much to see that this is the kind of dress that doesn’t allow for a bra or proper underwear. So be it. Swallowing down my anxiety, I slip into the dress.
I leave the back unzipped as I step in front of the gilded, full-length mirror. My reflection takes my breath away.
The fabric flows over my curves, hugging my torso before billowing out over my hips. Just the feel of it is exquisite. Like being wrapped in a silk cloud.
But I’m not wholly prepared to see what it does to the rest of me.
I swear that my eyes are brighter. My lips fuller. My hair thicker. I look like someone else entirely. Someone taller, sexier, and far more confident than I’ve eve
