He runs his fingers along the silk and brings the hem up close to his eyes for keen inspection. What a deeply dramatic shade of red. Not regal like crimson or subtle like burgundy or even dangerous like scarlet, but an infinite hue that screams ‘Me! Me! Look at me!’
‘Perfect,’ he mumbles to himself and rolls off all he needs. He laces its edges with a bold trim pattern made of gold thread and by inches, folds, cuts, pins, and sews the dress into life.
By week's end he is done and stands back to admire his work. He calls the client. She arrives at the shop that afternoon and lowers her sunglasses to take in the brashness of her commission.
‘Oh dad, it’s perfect.’ She doesn’t ask the price.
Paddy Dobson
24th May 2021