Some Girls Do by Clodagh Murphy

it’s a sexy dress, and then you said it doesn’t suit her. What exactly did you mean?’ Yvonne demanded.
    Oh, God, please just drop it , Claire begged silently.
    ‘It is a sexy dress. And she’s a sexy girl. You were right about the legs.’
    ‘Well, then …’
    ‘But you don’t feel sexy, do you?’ Luca said, eyeballing Claire.
    She certainly didn’t feel sexy now. She felt silly and pathetic, as if she was trying to be something she wasn’t – like a child tricked out in her mother’s cocktail dress.
    ‘Well, she will when she’s got her makeup and heels on,’ Yvonne said. ‘And no underwear, of course. No one could feel sexy in bare feet and M&S knickers.’
    Sweet Jesus, could this get any worse? Now Yvonne was sharing with Luca what kind of knickers she had on.
    ‘I will not be wearing no underwear.’ She fidgeted, tucking her hair behind her ears.
    ‘Back me up on this, Luca,’ Yvonne said.
    ‘Jesus, do you want to give the poor girl a coronary?’ He shot Claire a sympathetic look. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘No way.’
    Maybe Luca wasn’t so bad after all, Claire thought.
    ‘The key to being sexy is feeling sexy,’ he said. ‘How do you feel in that dress?’ he asked her.
    ‘Exposed,’ she said. ‘Self-conscious. Ridiculous.’
    ‘Right. And that’s how you look—’
    ‘Luca!’ Yvonne gasped in outrage, while Claire wished she could evaporate.
    ‘Shit! I didn’t mean you look ridiculous. I meant you look embarrassed, self-conscious, like you’re trying to make yourself invisible. Your shoulders are up around your ears and you haven’t stopped fidgeting for one second.’
    ‘Well, that’s because you’re both staring at me.’
    ‘Exactly. You can’t go out in a dress like that if you don’t want people looking at you. That’s a dress for a woman who wants to be noticed.’
    ‘Well, what would you suggest?’ Yvonne asked him, speaking as if Claire wasn’t there. ‘This is what she was thinking of wearing,’ she said, picking up the dress Claire had first chosen and waving it at him. Claire had thought it was very nice – a classic LBD, simple, understated … a bit boring maybe, but she had felt good in it: comfortable, safe.
    ‘Okay.’ Luca eyed the dress with distaste. ‘So what we need is a compromise – something in between hooker and nun.’
    ‘That is not a hooker dress,’ Yvonne fumed, pointing at Claire.
    ‘And that’s not a nun dress,’ Claire mumbled sulkily.
    ‘What’s the occasion anyway?’ Luca asked.
    ‘Dinner. She’s got a date!’ Yvonne told him, sounding more like a pushy mother by the second. Claire prayed she wouldn’t go into details.
    ‘Good for you,’ Luca said softly. ‘And you’re letting Yvonne dress you? Seriously?’
    ‘I thought you were going to help, Luca. If you’re just going to criticise …’
    ‘Okay.’ He jumped off the sofa, holding up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Leave it to me. Take that thing off,’ he told Claire, snatching the black dress from Yvonne and marching away.
    Claire went back to the changing room, hung the red dress on its hanger and waited. She was beginning to think Lucawas never coming back when his arm appeared through the curtain.
    ‘Here, try this,’ he said, thrusting a hanger at her.
    Claire examined the dress before unzipping it to try it on. It was the palest shade of green, the bodice a soft velour, while the neckline and long sleeves were sheer chiffon. She pulled it on, loving the feel of it. She had wanted a dress with sleeves like this ever since she had first seen Grace Kelly in that blue dress in High Society . She wondered why she hadn’t noticed it – but then she remembered she’d been zeroing in on black. She felt like hugging Luca when she looked in the mirror. It was perfect – sexy but classy. The bodice was fitted, clinging to her curves, but the skirt was full, layers of chiffon that swished when she moved, and fell to just above the knee. And