"A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men to want to take it off of you"
She turned and peered back over her shoulder, frowned, turned to look over the opposite shoulder as though somehow, from a different viewpoint, she would find what she hadn't seen.
She raised her arms above her head, lifting her hair from her shoulders, turning to face herself again her head tilting the opposite way, still frowning.
She lowered her arms and sighed, her hair tumbling down, her shoulders dropping slightly. Then she walked across to the wardrobe.
She pulled out the dress. She had bought it at a charity shop; a good label, well cut, but bought on a whim for only a few pounds.
She slipped the dress over her head feeling the fabric slip over her body like cool water on a hot day. The under-slip found her feminine curves and clung to them. The translucent dress fabric rustled gently as it slipped jealously over the top, unable to reach skin, swishing and moving against her as she wriggled her body to shake it down. Tying bows in the thin shoestring straps over the shoulders she enjoyed her pink bra strap, the colour bright against the black of the dress.
The under-slip was a few inches shorter than the dress, revealing her thighs just a bit further above the knee than modesty might dictate. Both fabrics were so thin that when the light was behind her it was possible to see every line and curve of her silhouette, to guess at her thigh muscles, the shadow where her pink g-string crossed over her hips and the indent of her tummy button. The fullness of her breasts fitted perfectly into the bodice of the dress, her cleavage nestled in silky folds.
She padded over to her shoe cupboard and chose the black satin peep-toe slingbacks. Five inch heels and shimmery silver under-soles. Slipping her toes into the shoes she carried herself differently, her back arching just slightly, her tummy instinctively pulling in as she walked from the hips, her shoulders straight, chin up.
She turned back to the mirror and smiled. She turned about and looked at her reflection from all angles, sashayed her hips and danced to imaginary music in her head.
She had never worn the dress outside this room. It somehow felt like a dress a different kind of woman would wear. A woman more self-assured, more worldly perhaps. She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered. Not today perhaps, but one day soon, she might dare to wear this dress out into the world and own it and the body it revealed.
Then she slipped the dress back over her head, placed it onto a coat hanger and returned it to the wardrobe. She slipped out of the beautiful shoes, wrapped them in tissue and carefully placed them into their shoe box.
Smiling still she pulled on jeans, warm socks and a baggy sweater and left the room to greet her everyday.