She was dreaming she walked along a bouldevard and then into a popular clothing outlet where all the classy, free-wheeling-due-to-having-excess-spending- cash females of varying ages were chattering while shopping.
She knew better than to look at the most current trends of cloth where high dollar was spent, but then the clothes shrank or had some other sooner-then-later flawing appear once one got attached and had imvested so much in them.
Arriving at the clearance racks, she sorted through the picked over remnants, commenting to herself how it was difficult to find a blouse that complimented her large bossom and did not make her look matronly.
There was a loose-fitting burnt-orange-hued strapped blouse – and then she found the prize, suddenly realizing that it is the combination of pieces that makes or breaks presentation of an outfit.
Slipping on the shorts covered artfully in beade-edged mirrors in such a way as to accent her curves and bring flashes of light with every movement, she squeeled with delight in finding a combo representation of her true identity.
Candid Corvid Productions 