Devon X Lily
The models strutted down the catwalk, one by one, with confident strides and heads held high. They wore appliqué dresses, herringbone coats, boxy blazers, knife pleat skirts. They wore all manners of colors - pinks and blues, pearl mystic turquoise and Tyrian purple.
But what caught Lily’s eye was the blue ombré dress which flowed and rippled like it was the ocean itself. It was mesmerizing and hypnotic, and for a moment she could almost smell the salt and hear the waves. And for a moment she felt the water flow over her head and plug up her nostrils, and she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into the warm arms of the ocean. And, in that moment, she almost forgot that she was attending a fashion show at the world’s most prestigious fashion school.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to her aide. “I want to meet the designer of this dress after the show.”
The aide scurried off, no doubt to wherever the students were anxiously seated, to inform one lucky - and talented - student that they were about to meet with the top fashion designer in the region. And the student would no doubt be greeted with an initial stunned silence by their peers, followed by praises tinged with envy.
That was how it would go, and she knew it, because that was how it had gone for her, just two years ago, when she had been a student at this very fashion school. When she had received the same news from one of the biggest names in the industry. When she had been so shocked and excited that her heart had felt like it might jump right out of her chest. When the world had seemed so surreal. When she would never have believed that she would have such a meteoric rise to fashion design stardom, or that she would have her own label at such a young age.
Smiling faintly with nostalgia, she got up and made her way out of the hall to the atrium. She could still remember her way around.
“Miss Lily? You…um…asked for me?” materialized at her side, his eyes wide with anticipation. “I’m Devon, and I’m very pleased to meet you!”
“Hello Devon,” she said, and was embarrassed to find herself blushing for no apparent reason.
There was a pause as Lily realized that Devon was still waiting for her to speak. She shook her head quickly, impatient at herself.
“I liked the dress you designed,” Lily said. “I would be interested in hearing more of your design ideas, and perhaps we could see if you would fit in with my label. We could discuss this more over dinner, if you are interested.”
“Dinner. Of course. Yes I would be interested in dinner. No, wait! I mean that I would be interested in discussing my designs and all that.” Devon let out his breath. “Not that I’m not interested in dinner,” he added hastily.
“Dinner it is then.” Lily smiled faintly. Her heart was beating fast again, and everything seemed so surreal, as if she were back at her own graduation fashion show.
Devon cleared his throat. “Well, I guess, I will go off now and see you later?” He hesitated, lingering, his eyes searching her face.
And Lily found that she did not want him to leave quite so soon either. “Your dress really evoked the feeling of the ocean, it was very well done.”
“Thank you. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean. It is so beautiful, so majestic, and also powerful enough to drown you. I guess I was thinking of all that, when I was preparing my design. I wanted to get that feeling of drowning, of losing control.”
Lily nodded. She could feel herself drowning now too - not in the ocean, but in something else too beautiful, too majestic. And she could see by the look in Devon’s eyes that he could feel it too.
But she refused to lose control, not just yet. And so she dipped her head, said her goodbyes, and walked away. She would meet him, for dinner. And they would discuss his designs. And they would talk some more. And then, as to what happened after, she would leave it to the tides of fate to decide.
She could feel his eyes on her, watching her even as she weaved through the crowd and left the atrium. She told herself that, like any good designer, he was instinctively studying the cut of her jacket, the filigree of her jewelry. And that maybe he was thinking back to his own designs, using what he was seeing to find new ways to improve upon them. Maybe - most probably - he was thinking of his ocean dress.
Of the blue skirt swirling lightly, of the blue bodice hugging tightly and refusing to let go, of the blue ocean, of the one person who could make a dress so beautiful, so majestic that it would drag her down and down and down.
The models strutted down the catwalk, one by one, with confident strides and heads held high. They wore appliqué dresses, herringbone coats, boxy blazers, knife pleat skirts. They wore all manners of colors - pinks and blues, pearl mystic turquoise and Tyrian purple.
But what caught Lily’s eye was the blue ombré dress which flowed and rippled like it was the ocean itself. It was mesmerizing and hypnotic, and for a moment she could almost smell the salt and hear the waves. And for a moment she felt the water flow over her head and plug up her nostrils, and she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into the warm arms of the ocean. And, in that moment, she almost forgot that she was attending a fashion show at the world’s most prestigious fashion school.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to her aide. “I want to meet the designer of this dress after the show.”
The aide scurried off, no doubt to wherever the students were anxiously seated, to inform one lucky - and talented - student that they were about to meet with the top fashion designer in the region. And the student would no doubt be greeted with an initial stunned silence by their peers, followed by praises tinged with envy.
That was how it would go, and she knew it, because that was how it had gone for her, just two years ago, when she had been a student at this very fashion school. When she had received the same news from one of the biggest names in the industry. When she had been so shocked and excited that her heart had felt like it might jump right out of her chest. When the world had seemed so surreal. When she would never have believed that she would have such a meteoric rise to fashion design stardom, or that she would have her own label at such a young age.
Smiling faintly with nostalgia, she got up and made her way out of the hall to the atrium. She could still remember her way around.
“Miss Lily? You…um…asked for me?” materialized at her side, his eyes wide with anticipation. “I’m Devon, and I’m very pleased to meet you!”
“Hello Devon,” she said, and was embarrassed to find herself blushing for no apparent reason.
There was a pause as Lily realized that Devon was still waiting for her to speak. She shook her head quickly, impatient at herself.
“I liked the dress you designed,” Lily said. “I would be interested in hearing more of your design ideas, and perhaps we could see if you would fit in with my label. We could discuss this more over dinner, if you are interested.”
“Dinner. Of course. Yes I would be interested in dinner. No, wait! I mean that I would be interested in discussing my designs and all that.” Devon let out his breath. “Not that I’m not interested in dinner,” he added hastily.
“Dinner it is then.” Lily smiled faintly. Her heart was beating fast again, and everything seemed so surreal, as if she were back at her own graduation fashion show.
Devon cleared his throat. “Well, I guess, I will go off now and see you later?” He hesitated, lingering, his eyes searching her face.
And Lily found that she did not want him to leave quite so soon either. “Your dress really evoked the feeling of the ocean, it was very well done.”
“Thank you. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean. It is so beautiful, so majestic, and also powerful enough to drown you. I guess I was thinking of all that, when I was preparing my design. I wanted to get that feeling of drowning, of losing control.”
Lily nodded. She could feel herself drowning now too - not in the ocean, but in something else too beautiful, too majestic. And she could see by the look in Devon’s eyes that he could feel it too.
But she refused to lose control, not just yet. And so she dipped her head, said her goodbyes, and walked away. She would meet him, for dinner. And they would discuss his designs. And they would talk some more. And then, as to what happened after, she would leave it to the tides of fate to decide.
She could feel his eyes on her, watching her even as she weaved through the crowd and left the atrium. She told herself that, like any good designer, he was instinctively studying the cut of her jacket, the filigree of her jewelry. And that maybe he was thinking back to his own designs, using what he was seeing to find new ways to improve upon them. Maybe - most probably - he was thinking of his ocean dress.
Of the blue skirt swirling lightly, of the blue bodice hugging tightly and refusing to let go, of the blue ocean, of the one person who could make a dress so beautiful, so majestic that it would drag her down and down and down.
Couple story by Tar #1249086