Getting back in the clothes is even more horrific than the first time I had to try them on, while my mom hovered around me, clucking proudly like a mother hen.
The white lacy shirt goes on first, then the garters, after we buckle that up, I pull on the pants.
There were still knee-high boots to be worn, suspenders, and a necktie but I still haven't had my hair done yet and apparently, my face.
My mom excitedly leads me back to the accursed dresser and starts to take the curlers out of my hair.
I blink in surprise when my hair is let down, it's glossy and fluffier than it has ever been.
"Whoa!" I whisper, poking my hair. "It's so bouncy."
"I know." My mom laughs at the awe on my face. "It's pretty long too and I don't want to leave it down, I don't want to pack it all up either." She starts to ramble, a thing she does when she's intensely concentrating.
