Caris stood on a small podium as Lulabelle adjusted some swaths of fabric around her waist. She stared in the mirror, “you’re a genius, girl. This is stunning. I mean you always do amazing work, but this is something else.”
The dress was gold and shimmery and caught the light with every move Caris made. The top of the dress was two wide pieces of fabric which twisted and wrapped in a helix around her breasts barely covering them, but just after crisscrossing over her chest they wrapped around her neck, and then twisting together in a rope-like fashion along her spine where it connected at the skirt. The skirt was a mini skirt with a giant overlay of the material flowing widely out over her hips.
“I want your hair off your face for this one,” Lulabelle spoke briskly. “And for Christ’s sak
