In a full-length mirror located in the corner of the room where Xhemin was, she stood, gazing at the beauty of her own reflection. She had stood before such moments earlier in wonder, reaching out to touch the image of the woman there, tracing the carved frame as if daring anyone to deny the vision. It was her own, of course, but an image of her own self that she had never imagined.
"Perfect" Dian giggled excitedly at her back, placing her own two hands on Xhemin's exposed shoulders. The one she let Xhemin wore was a sexy cut, off shoulders and it hugged every curved of her friend's body with wanton perfection.
Xhemin smoothed her hand over the gown, feeling the incomparable texture of rich, slightly irregular velvet. The very fabric of blue gown possessed a special quality, an indefinable element missing from anything that had been mass-produced or synthetic. This type of clothing was specifically made, exclusive for the socialites perhaps or probably exclusive for the Lagdameos.
