on the Mac behind the counter and fired it up. “Let me show you what we have on order at the moment. This is pretty special. I’m putting together a display just for it. I may never sell it but I’m going to enjoy looking at it for sure.”
He clicked on a few links and pulled up a picture of a stunning lace gown – which looked for all intents and purposes like a bridal gown. It had delicate lace ruffles and a softly structured bodice. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around my waist, imagining for just a second slipping into the gown and how it would make me feel. I glanced down at my jeans and my fitted T, my Converse boots and the belted cardigan I wore. My hands moved from my waist to my hair, roughly pulled a loose curl back behind my ear. The picture on the screen was just a dress – but I tried to remember the last time I wore a dress. Apart from my father’s funeral, of course. When was the last time I had dressed up, fixed myself up, done my hair and my make-up, had the wow factor about myself?
“It’s Dior,” he said proudly, standing back. “Cost a fortune. Too much really. A little indulgence but I had to have it. I know I’m not one of those out-and-out screaming gay folk but I am partial to a bit of Dior and I just decided to treat myself.”
“It’s stunning,” I muttered, embarrassed to find tears pricking my eyes.
“It is, isn’t it?”
He smiled at me and I forced myself to breathe. I gazed at the screen and back at the shop around me. He shooed me away to have a look around while he attended to some paperwork.
“Don’t worry!” he called from behind the desk. “I don’t have much work to do and then we can head out for the day.”
I was thinking this place reminded me of my mom’s bedroom and dressing-up as a child. It felt nice. It felt safe. And it was pretty.
“Actually, can we stay here?” I said. “Remember when you said you’d set me to work here? I’ll do it, you know. I like the pretty things. So many pretty things!”
“Well, if you’re sure?” Sam seemed a little hesitant. “I don’t want to take advantage.”
“You’re not,” I said. “I know maybe I don’t look the part for a glam chic boutique but this place is just amazing. I could easily while away a few hours.”
“It’s your holiday,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Then he decided to make my notion a little more bearable. “Choose something to wear,” he said. “Make yourself more presentable. No offence or anything but I have a reputation to keep up and while jeans and Converse are perfectly acceptable attire to drive up to the Giant’s Causeway in, they don’t scream ‘professional saleswoman’.”
I nodded and absolutely didn’t take offence. To be honest, having seen the interior of Second Hand Rose, I wanted to try on as much as would fit in my size so I had to hide a small smile of excitement from my face as Sam started working his way through the rails of clothing before lifting out a cotton sundress, with a delicate floral pattern, capped sleeves and a thin red belt around the waist.
He held it up to me. “Elfin,” he said. “You could definitely get away with this and I’d guess it is near enough your size. This one is from the late 50s – a timeless wee number. I added the belt myself when it came into the shop. And you know I’m pretty sure I have some chunky beads that would go with it and maybe a pair of pumps.”
Whirling around the shop he collected the other items and directed me behind a curtain into a small changing room. I undressed, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. If the truth be told, and this wasn’t something I was proud of, I had become quite skinny. My boobs had never been my strong point anyway, but they looked pathetic now – my bra a little too big. My face looked gaunt. I wasn’t really used to gauntness – working around baked goods, tasting all those recipes, generally ensured a certain fullness
He clicked on a few links and pulled up a picture of a stunning lace gown – which looked for all intents and purposes like a bridal gown. It had delicate lace ruffles and a softly structured bodice. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around my waist, imagining for just a second slipping into the gown and how it would make me feel. I glanced down at my jeans and my fitted T, my Converse boots and the belted cardigan I wore. My hands moved from my waist to my hair, roughly pulled a loose curl back behind my ear. The picture on the screen was just a dress – but I tried to remember the last time I wore a dress. Apart from my father’s funeral, of course. When was the last time I had dressed up, fixed myself up, done my hair and my make-up, had the wow factor about myself?
“It’s Dior,” he said proudly, standing back. “Cost a fortune. Too much really. A little indulgence but I had to have it. I know I’m not one of those out-and-out screaming gay folk but I am partial to a bit of Dior and I just decided to treat myself.”
“It’s stunning,” I muttered, embarrassed to find tears pricking my eyes.
“It is, isn’t it?”
He smiled at me and I forced myself to breathe. I gazed at the screen and back at the shop around me. He shooed me away to have a look around while he attended to some paperwork.
“Don’t worry!” he called from behind the desk. “I don’t have much work to do and then we can head out for the day.”
I was thinking this place reminded me of my mom’s bedroom and dressing-up as a child. It felt nice. It felt safe. And it was pretty.
“Actually, can we stay here?” I said. “Remember when you said you’d set me to work here? I’ll do it, you know. I like the pretty things. So many pretty things!”
“Well, if you’re sure?” Sam seemed a little hesitant. “I don’t want to take advantage.”
“You’re not,” I said. “I know maybe I don’t look the part for a glam chic boutique but this place is just amazing. I could easily while away a few hours.”
“It’s your holiday,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Then he decided to make my notion a little more bearable. “Choose something to wear,” he said. “Make yourself more presentable. No offence or anything but I have a reputation to keep up and while jeans and Converse are perfectly acceptable attire to drive up to the Giant’s Causeway in, they don’t scream ‘professional saleswoman’.”
I nodded and absolutely didn’t take offence. To be honest, having seen the interior of Second Hand Rose, I wanted to try on as much as would fit in my size so I had to hide a small smile of excitement from my face as Sam started working his way through the rails of clothing before lifting out a cotton sundress, with a delicate floral pattern, capped sleeves and a thin red belt around the waist.
He held it up to me. “Elfin,” he said. “You could definitely get away with this and I’d guess it is near enough your size. This one is from the late 50s – a timeless wee number. I added the belt myself when it came into the shop. And you know I’m pretty sure I have some chunky beads that would go with it and maybe a pair of pumps.”
Whirling around the shop he collected the other items and directed me behind a curtain into a small changing room. I undressed, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. If the truth be told, and this wasn’t something I was proud of, I had become quite skinny. My boobs had never been my strong point anyway, but they looked pathetic now – my bra a little too big. My face looked gaunt. I wasn’t really used to gauntness – working around baked goods, tasting all those recipes, generally ensured a certain fullness
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