Page 37 of Wrapped Up at the Vintage Dress Shop
She’d stay for one drink. She wasn’t really a party person and she certainly wasn’t in the party mood tonight.
‘Ah, there she is! Phoebe!’
She looked up from contemplating the toes of her black suede stilettos to the far more welcome sight of her friend Marianne.
Marianne was a statuesque goddess of a woman. Six feet in her fishnet-stockinged feet with hair currently the same colour red as post-boxes and London buses. She was wearing a leopard-print catsuit, which wasn’t unusual for Marianne, but in a nod to Halloween she’d added cat’s ears on an Alice band and a tail. No wonder Coco Chanel barked out a warning.
‘None of your nonsense, little miss,’ Marianne said sharply as she scattered the two snogging wizards so she could reach Phoebe and air-kiss in her general direction. ‘Claude has gone to get us a drink.’
Claude was Marianne’s life partner. The real pussycat of the couple, despite the fact that he was covered in tattoos and piercings, Claude was an absolute sweetheart even if he did tend to clang when he walked.
‘I persuaded Nina to come too,’ Marianne said, sitting down one step lower to Phoebe to reveal that behind her was another of Phoebe’s friends.
‘I’ve come as goth Marilyn,’ Nina said, giving a little shimmy to show off her look, which was a sparkly black version of the famous white halter-neck dress that Marilyn Monroe had worn inThe Seven Year Itch. ‘I’m a bit worried that this black spray-in hair dye isn’t going to come out any time soon. I was platinum blonde this morning.’
‘Worth it though,’ Phoebe said, as Nina climbed over Marianne so she could scoop up Coco and sit down next to Phoebe. ‘Sometimes one has to suffer for beauty.’
‘Talking of suffering, what is the deal with you being the internet villain of the week?’ Marianne asked. ‘There was a lot of chat about you being a bully but what did you actually do? More importantly, what did that influencer do to make you behave like that?’
It was all about how you asked a question. Marianne was the first person who didn’t automatically assume that Phoebe was entirely to blame.
‘Even though she wasn’t meant to, she tried on a 1930s wedding dress made of the most fragile silk. Got fake tan on it and then she yanked if off andrippedit,’ Phoebe said and she could feel herself getting angry all over again. ‘I know I’m not an angel but . . .’
‘Oh my God, if someone had done that in my shop, I’d have ripped them,’ Marianne said, though because she looked so imposing, people tended to behave around her. ‘Not that I stock the really bougie pieces.’
‘Your stock is beautifully curated,’ Phoebe insisted because Marianne’s little shop in Kentish Town was always full of the most covetable pieces of vintage fashion. ‘I always know that I’m going to leave with the most gorgeous clothes and no money left for the rest of the month.’
‘Not a single wedding dress to be found though. Not that I want to go traditional,’ Nina said as she wafted her left hand about.
‘You’re about as subtle as a breeze block,’ Marianne said fondly.
‘Bridalwear is very specialised.’ Phoebe perked up because this was one of her favourite subjects. ‘But a good half of my bridal pieces didn’t start life as wedding dresses. For one of my recent brides, she wanted a red wedding dress, so I asked some of my most reliable buyers to—’
‘I probably wouldn’t get married in red. Though you never know,’ Nina mused, flinging her hand out again.
‘You nearly had my eye out!’ Phoebe complained. ‘I know this can be a very emotive topic but—’
‘For crying out loud, Phoebe, look at my hand!’ Nina demanded, holding her hand up for inspection so that Phoebe could now see that on her third finger was . . .
‘Is that . . . ?’ She took hold of Nina’s hand so she could inspect the beautiful art deco, pink tourmaline and diamond ring. ‘Are you . . . engaged?’
‘I am,’ Nina confirmed with a beaming smile that was all teeth and gums. ‘Noah popped the question a couple of weeks ago and I graciously agreed to be his old ball and chain.’
‘Ball and chain, nothing! He’s lucky to have you,’ Phoebe said, because although Nina’s boyfriend, or rather fiancé, Noah was perfectly pleasant, she’d never seen him wear anything other than navy blue. In fact, she was surprised that . . . ‘He clearly has good taste. That ring is gorgeous.’
‘I think that was more Charles’s doing,’ Nina said. ‘Though Noah did remember that pink is my favourite colour. We’re going to do a spring wedding. Can’t see the point of putting it off, which means I’m in the market for a wedding dress.’
‘What were you thinking?’ Phoebe asked eagerly, trying to ignore the strange pang in her chest that Nina’s news had caused. Even though hers and Freddy’s undefined relationship was even more undefined than usual, even less of a relationship, she didn’t think that they’d ever get married. If she wasn’t the loving kind, then she definitely wasn’t the marrying kind. Much easier to think about dresses rather than what it must feel like when someone picked you out of all the people in the world to be the one person that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with.
‘Well, something that I can get my boobs and my booty into, which rules out ninety nine per cent of the frocks in The Vintage Dress Shop,’ Nina said baldly because she never had any trouble saying the difficult things. Phoebe could respect that.
‘I could make some calls . . .’ Finding enough options for someone as demanding as Nina would be a challenging job but Phoebe was up for it.
‘Don’t get aggy but I was hoping you could ask your friend Chris if she’d make me something,’ Nina said.
Phoebe’s first reaction was to get aggy because did no one want to buy vintage anymore? Also,Cresswould probablyname the dress The Nina and add it to her line and . . . then Phoebe came to her senses.
This wasn’t about her. This was about Nina’s most special day. Though she still had every right to be cross with Cress. ‘You mean Cress and she’s here now. If she hasn’t been crushed to death, I’ll introduce you properly.’
