ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY

"oh my word Bless, that is the one" my mom says gasping when she sees what bless is wearing. the back of the dress is open with a diamond thin belt in the middle running from the top of the dress right down to where her butt begins. She is screaming sexy and powerful, the embodiment of femme fetal. 

"l can't believe that after hearing all of Anaya's complaints l was beginning to doubt your style but you really put in the work with this dress. I look so beautiful" her eyes do not leave the full body mirror that is in front of the fitting room, in the area that guests can sit to see the clothes their relatives or friends are trying on

"you must know by now that Anaya knows nothing about fashion and has no sense of style" my mother says basking in the compliment that she fishes so hard from me but are differences in style shouldn't be a one way ticket to insult vile