Page 4 of Monkey Business

“That’s good. Turn, please,” said Gwen, smiling at the young woman. “Lovely. I think we need to hem it up just a half of an inch and maybe pull the shoulders up a bit.”

“No,” said the young girl. “I like the way the shoulders fall and show my cleavage.”

Gwen smiled at the young woman, looking at her mother and future mother-in-law. The bride-to-be was twenty-three, headstrong, and determined to show the assets that God and her mother had given her.

She’d demanded see-through panels on the front of the dress, allowing her guests to see her flesh beneath. The shoulders were narrow straps of lace that fell on her shoulder bones, revealing a full cleavage view nearly to the center of her abdomen.

“Cherise, I understand what you’re looking for, but this dress is not going to stay up. You’re going to have to practically glue it on in order not to fall out of it. Sometimes, less is more, but in this case, more is more,” smiled Gwen.

“I want what I want!” said the young woman.

“I get it,” said Gwen. “Truly, I do. But we’re entering into precarious territory here, and I’m not sure it’s my territory.”

“What do you mean?” asked the mother.

“I mean, this is not the type of garment I put my name on,” said Gwen calmly with a smile. “My gowns are very different than this for a reason. I’m all about giving brides a choice in their gowns. It’s your day, but I’m also here to advise you on what would be appropriate or not. Imagine how your future husband, father-in-law, or father might feel seeing this.”

“Are saying you won’t finish my gown!” yelled the young woman. Gwen calmly stood, no longer smiling.

“I’m saying this is not a gown that will leave my studio. A wedding should be a celebration of your femininity, not your sexuality. Save the lingerie for your wedding night, not down the aisle. You don’t have to dress demurely or like a nun, but you should want to keep a few surprises for the groom.”

“Oh, my God,” laughed Cherise. “You cannot be serious. We’ve lived together for almost two years. There are no surprises.”

“That’s a shame,” frowned Gwen. “Then what is there to share on your wedding night if there are no surprises between the two of you?”

The mother stared at her daughter, the mother-in-law not saying anything.

“I’m going to grab some tea for all of us,” said Gwen. “Anna will help you remove the gown.”

Gwen stepped down the hallway and into the small kitchen, taking deep breaths. She wasn’t worried about losing the account. She made more than enough on designs and gowns that were not bridal.

What she struggled with was the young woman not realizing that twenty years from now, she’d look at those photos and hate the choice she made. She’d seen it so many times it made her heart break. Keep it simple. Keep it elegant. But most of all, keep it true to yourself.

She heard conversation down the hall, then shouting, and rushed back to the fitting room.

“What on earth is going on? I have other clients here,” said Gwen. “Respect them.”

“You’ve made them question my dress!” yelled the young bride. The mother and mother-in-law blushed, staring at the girl.

“We’ve tried to tell her before that she’s going to regret this. Thank you for saying what we were afraid to, Gwen. Cherise don’t do this. You’ll regret the dress. You can’t even wear panties with it the way you’ve had it cut up. The slit is all the way to your hip bone, and the front and back panels are sheer.”

“I’ll wear a thong, Mother.”

“A thong? So that everyone in the church will see? No. No way. Have you even mentioned any of this to Bradley? I know he wouldn’t want this. He’s a very modest man,” said her future mother-in-law.

Nine and Gaspar heard the commotion and stood in the doorway looking at the young woman. Both men frowned.

“Look! There! See, those two men like the dress, don’t you?”

“Nope,” said Nine.

“Not even a little,” said Gaspar. “No offense, Gwen.”

“None taken. It wasn’t my original design. She’d started with someone else and came to me to finish it. But this isn’t something I can finish,” said Gwen.

“I can’t believe you don’t like this,” said the young woman, stomping her foot. “It’s sexy and enticing.”

“Your future husband already knows that about you. You don’t have to advertise it to everyone. If I saw my future wife wearing that, I’d turn and walk away. I’m not lying. I would walk in the opposite direction and not look back. It’s not sexy. It’s trashy.”

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