Later that night, I thumbed through the rack of dresses. I had recently come to hate clothes shopping, since I had started putting weight on around my waist. I just felt so gross those days and like nothing looked good on me.
Maria came over with an armful of dresses. She held them out to me and I looked at them warily. These dresses looked more like the one they had forced me to wear to Chickadee’s, not something I’d wear to a nice dinner party.
“I…” I started.
“Eh eh eh,” Maria stopped me. “No excuses. Try these on. I demand to see every single one once you do have them on, I don’t trust your judgment.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled and headed for a dressing room.
I put the first one on, which had a deeeeeeep V in the front and a slit on the side
