Chapter 17 The Shopping Bag
Vivienne's POV
I closed the door quickly and rushed to the bathroom. My heart was racing as I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wake myself up completely. I couldn't believe I had overslept on such an important day. This was my chance to finally get some new clothes and stop wearing the same few outfits over and over again.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face properly, I hurried to get dressed in one of the only outfits I had. I ran a brush through my hair several times until it looked somewhat presentable, then took one final look in the mirror. It would have to do.
I grabbed my small purse and made my way downstairs as quickly as I could without actually running. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw a woman standing in the entrance hall. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a crisp white blouse and black pants that looked expensive. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore stylish glasses that made her look both professional and fashionable.
"You must be Vivienne," the woman said with a warm smile, extending her hand toward me. "I'm Margaret. I'll be helping you with your shopping today."
I shook her hand, feeling a bit intimidated by how put-together she looked. "Yes, that's me. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting."
"Oh, don't worry about it at all," Margaret said kindly. "We have plenty of time. The boss has given us the entire day if we need it. He wants to make sure you get everything you need."
My eyebrows raised in surprise. The entire day? That seemed like a lot. "Really? That's very generous of him."
Margaret smiled knowingly. "He was quite specific in his instructions. He wants you to have a complete wardrobe. Casual clothes, formal wear, shoes, accessories, everything. So we should probably get started."
A sleek black car was waiting for us outside. The driver opened the door for us, and Margaret and I climbed into the back seat. The leather seats were soft and comfortable, and the car smelled like expensive perfume.
"So, Vivienne," Margaret began as the car pulled away from the house. "Tell me a bit about your style. What kind of clothes do you usually like to wear? What makes you feel comfortable and confident?"
I thought about her question for a moment. Honestly, it had been so long since I had been able to choose my own clothes that I wasn't even sure anymore.
"I like simple things," I said finally. "Nothing too flashy or complicated. I want to look nice, but I also want to be comfortable. Is that okay?"
"That's perfect," Margaret assured me. "Simple and elegant is always a good choice. And comfort is important. There's no point in having beautiful clothes if you feel miserable wearing them."
The car took us to an upscale shopping district that I had never been to before. The streets were lined with expensive boutiques and designer stores. Everything looked so fancy and intimidating. Margaret must have noticed my nervous expression because she patted my hand gently.
"Don't worry," she said. "I know all the best places, and I know exactly what will work for you. Just trust me, okay?"
We started at a boutique that specialized in casual wear. The moment we walked through the door, a sales assistant rushed over to greet Margaret like an old friend. It was clear that Margaret shopped here often and was a valued customer.
"Margaret! How wonderful to see you again!" the assistant exclaimed. "And who is this lovely young lady?"
"This is Vivienne," Margaret introduced me.
"She needs a complete wardrobe, starting with casual pieces. We'll need everyday wear, comfortable but stylish. Can you help us?"
"Of course! Right this way," the assistant said, leading us deeper into the store.
For the next hour, I tried on more clothes than I had worn in the past year combined. Margaret had an incredible eye for what would look good on me. She pulled out soft cotton t-shirts in various colors, comfortable jeans that actually fit properly, casual dresses that were simple but pretty, and cozy sweaters that felt like a hug.
"Try this on," Margaret would say, handing me another outfit. And each time I came out of the dressing room, she would study me carefully, sometimes nodding with approval and sometimes shaking her head and going to find something different.
"How does it feel?" she would ask. Not just how does it look, but how does it feel. She seemed to genuinely care about my comfort.
"It feels good," I would answer honestly. And she would smile and add it to the growing pile of clothes we were buying.
By the time we left that first store, we had several large shopping bags full of casual clothes. T-shirts, jeans, leggings, sweaters, casual dresses, and even some comfortable pajamas that were much nicer than the worn-out ones I had been wearing.
"Now for some nicer pieces," Margaret announced as we walked to the next store. "You'll need things for dinners, events, maybe even formal occasions."
The next boutique was even fancier than the first. The dresses here were beautiful, made from silk and satin and other materials that felt amazing against my skin. Margaret selected several dresses for me to try on, ranging from simple cocktail dresses to more elaborate evening gowns.
I stepped into the dressing room with the first dress, a deep blue knee-length dress with a fitted waist and flowing skirt. When I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. I looked elegant. I looked confident. I looked like someone important.
"Come out, let me see," Margaret called from outside the dressing room.
I opened the door nervously and stepped out. Margaret's face lit up immediately.
"Oh, Vivienne! That's absolutely perfect on you! The color brings out your eyes, and the cut is very flattering. How do you feel in it?"
"I feel... beautiful," I admitted quietly, still staring at my reflection in the larger mirror outside the dressing room.
"Then we're definitely getting it," Margaret said firmly, adding it to our collection.
We spent another two hours in that store, trying on dress after dress. Some were too formal, some were too casual, but Margaret had a talent for knowing exactly which ones would work. By the time we were done, we had selected five beautiful dresses, each one different but all of them making me feel special.
"Shoes next," Margaret declared. "You can't have all these lovely clothes without proper shoes to go with them."
The shoe store was like nothing I had ever seen before. There were hundreds of pairs of shoes displayed on sleek white shelves, everything from simple flats to towering high heels. I felt overwhelmed just looking at them all.
"Don't panic," Margaret said with a laugh, seeing my wide-eyed expression. "We'll take it step by step. First, let's get you some everyday shoes. Comfortable flats, some nice sneakers, maybe a few pairs of sandals."
She guided me through the store, selecting shoes with the same careful attention she had given to the clothes. She made me walk around in each pair, watching to make sure they fit properly and that I could walk comfortably in them.
"Shoes should never hurt," she told me. "If they're not comfortable in the store, they won't get more comfortable later. Don't ever buy shoes that pinch or hurt, no matter how pretty they are."
After the everyday shoes, we moved on to dressier options. Margaret selected several pairs of elegant heels to go with the dresses we had bought. She taught me how to walk in them properly, how to distribute my weight, how to take smaller steps.
"Practice at home," she advised. "Wear them around the house for a few hours each day until they feel natural. There's nothing worse than wobbling around in heels because you're not used to them."
We also bought boots, both casual and dressy, and even a pair of rain boots that Margaret insisted were essential.
By now, the car was nearly full of shopping bags, but Margaret wasn't done yet.
"Accessories," she announced. "A wardrobe isn't complete without the right accessories."