Chapter 10 #2
Right now, my bedroom floor is a sea of discarded clothing after trying on what felt like three thousand outfits.
I decided on my trusty black fitted pencil skirt and pink satin blouse teamed with thick black tights and flat black ballet shoes.
This outfit says professional and feminine.
Wendy took one look at me, half smiled, half laughed.
“That outfit is bloody awful. You will be a different woman when I’m done with you, Bex, and not just in the way you dress,” she said. My stomach lurched. The words themselves were mild, but the tone was fierce. I knew I was in for an interesting night.
Ten minutes later, Wendy struts in wearing a fitted dress that sports a bold blue and white checked pattern.
The neckline is cut low enough just to expose the top of her breasts.
Sexy, but professional. She’s wearing heels, not quite high enough to be called too high for a work environment.
Her legs are bare, and her black hair is styled into short, sharp spikes.
She wears makeup that’s relatively natural, apart from a strong red lip.
She looks like a woman in control and at ease with her body.
Everything I’m not. Yet. If I ever will be.
Within minutes, she marched down the three flights of stairs to the staff parking. Her bright-red sports car with only two seats and a soft top sits waiting. She beeps the button to unlock it, and we climb in. The inside is the complete opposite of the spotless exterior.
The floor of the passenger side is littered with fast food containers. She moves a pile of paperwork off my seat by throwing it on the floor, telling me to watch where I put my feet.
We head out of the school gates to a mall on the edge of the city.
One of those huge places that has everything from a supermarket to hairdressers to high-end restaurants.
She spins the car around the parking garage at breakneck speed, finding a space as close to the doors as physically possible.
Turning to me, she gives me a megawatt smile.
“Come on, then. Let the fun begin.” We get out of the car, and I follow her to see what future awaits me through those sliding doors.
First of all, she takes me to a large glass-fronted unit. The sign above it is neon yellow and flashes. Heathers. Inside it is a bustling hive of activity. It dawns on me: this is a hairdresser and beautician. Wendy winks.
“First things first,” she says, “let’s get the basics right. You will be here for two hours. I’ve arranged for you to get a haircut and any beauty treatments they think you need.” I look at her blankly.
“Beauty treatments?”
My skincare routine is comprised of water and perhaps some soap. She stares at me as if I’m an idiot, which at this moment, I am.
“Yes, Bex, like manicures, pedicures, and waxing. Trust me, this is the first step in the journey to being a new you. The best version of you.”
“Waxing? Where?” I squeak. Her eyes drop to my crotch. “Wendy, my bits aren’t up for public viewing, thanks.”
“Don’t be such a baby. Regular waxing eliminates the stress around constantly having to shave, is more hygienic, and means you are always ready for a fuck. If the opportunity arises.”
“That’s a very bold ‘if’,” I mutter. “The notches on my bedpost, or lack of them, are none of your business.” Ignoring my protest, she leads me into the shop. I briefly consider having a toddler tantrum, but accept I’ll probably not win. So, I keep my mouth shut and follow her.
Two hours later, I’ve been prodded, primped, and preened within an inch of my life.
My platinum-blonde hair has been cut to shoulder length and is sitting in soft, beachy waves.
I now have bangs that don’t quite reach my eyes.
I’m told this style frames my face beautifully, accentuating my large brown eyes.
My nails are long and hot pink; I love seeing the bright colors swishing around every time I move them.
The waxing was as painful and humiliating as expected—having your lady garden on display, while holding a leg in the air so a woman you have never met before could cover you in hot wax and rip it off again.
There’s no dignity in it, but I survived.
The past few hours have been a learning curve. I’m happy it’s come to an end.
Wendy’s waiting for me at the coffee shop across from the salon. She stands as I approach.
“Right, no time for coffee. Let’s get shopping,” she declares and marches off toward the shops. I’d kill for a coffee, which is obviously not part of her timetable.
After what feels like hours, I’m in the changing room of a huge department store. It’s been over an hour since I wore my own clothes. Wendy and two of the store assistants bring me a steady stream of garments to try on.
So far, we’ve decided on purchasing four items, while around forty are on the discarded pile. They’re pushing me out of my comfort zone, encouraging me to try on bold, bright colors and shapes much more fitted than I’m used to.
“You have a fantastic figure,” one of the assistants says. “Those curves deserve to be shown off.” I giggle nervously at her compliment. “It’s true. You are a striking woman. Enjoy it.”
“That’s exactly what I told her,” Wendy agrees. I roll my eyes.
At last, Wendy’s satisfied I have enough clothing to nail my new look.
“Okay,” she says excitedly, “final surprise.” She jumps up and down on the spot, clapping her hands.
“We’re going to a makeup workshop. It starts in fifteen minutes.
” With that announcement, she grabs my hand and drags me off to an unknown destination for the final phase.
My ordeal is nearly over, but I’ve loved it.
Arriving back at the apartment in a sea of bags, I plonk myself down in exhaustion. It’s eleven o’clock, and I left the house at seven this morning. I’m officially fucked.
A huge smile spreads across my face as memories play in my head.
What a fantastic fucking day. I’m already a new woman.
I’ve not even started putting what I’ve learned into practice.
Silently, I bless Wendy for being an incredible friend.
For seeing me. For deciding I was worth the effort.
I make a mental note to take her a small present on Monday, like a bath bomb or something.
After wrestling all my goodies from today into my little room, I lie down on my bed and immediately fall into a dreamless sleep, ready to start a new day as a new me tomorrow.