Date: 2012-01-18 06:29 am (UTC)
I look down at her, standing there as she is in (what say may stoop to call) her underwear. "No. The dress will fit you just fine. Will it suit you? Probably not, but that wasn't the point of all of this." Uh, I really hate having to explain myself. But it's not as though she looks due for any miraculous insight just now.

"You see, the dress I want to send you home with is something you never would have chosen for yourself. It would have made you uncomfortable, no matter what you said about wanting to try something new, and you would have left without it." I slip past her to the dressing room and pick up the discarded dress from the floor. "This dress, while trust me it's your size, is too short. The neckline is too low. You would have put it on and been appalled, vowing never to set foot from the dressing room in it... Which, as I said, was the point."

She's still just standing there when I return, slip of a dress over my arm. "So that, by comparison, the dress you should be wearing wouldn't seem that terrifying at all." It's quite like saving a drowning person, this fashion business; they all need to flail and fight before they let you help. "And I don't need to measure you, I know your measurements just fine." My smirk creeps back to my face, for all the seriousness of before, as the conversation turns. Not that I can see too much, with what she's wearing, but... "I may be an ass, but I'm not stupid." I give her a once over. "And I'm sure as hell not blind."
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