Page 34 of Wrapped Up at the Vintage Dress Shop
‘I never thought I could look like this,’ she said at last. ‘I never want to take this dress off. Can I take some photos? My mum, my family, are in Dublin. It’s why I’m here on my own.’
Usually brides weren’t allowed to take photos unless they’d committed to the dress and paid a hefty deposit. There had been occasions when women had taken lots of photos, then hadn’t bought the dress but had had a replica dress made using inferior materials and craftmanship.
Joanna didn’t seem like she had the audacity to pull that kind of trick and also, Phoebe could be flexible. Sometimes.‘You can take a couple of photos,’ she said as Joanna handed her phone to Cress.
‘It needs taking out at the waist,’ Cress said once the photos were done. ‘And maybe I’ll raise the hem by just a couple of centimetres.’
‘Is it a winter wedding?’ Phoebe asked.
Joanna nodded. Her face fell. ‘Yeah. Bit of a rush job which is why I’m here on my own. My gran’s not very well so we’ve had to bring everything forward.’
Cress and Sophy made sympathetic noises but Phoebe felt she could be of more practical help. ‘I love a winter wedding. A white faux-fur bolero or even a white velvet cape would be heavenly. I’ll give you the details of a couple of vintage shops who are sure to have something suitable.’
‘That would be great. Thank you.’ Joanna held up her ponytail. ‘Then I was thinking my hair loose with maybe a tiara.’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘Definitely not. You’ve got a great neck and collarbones, so I’d go for a relaxed chignon with some strands of hair framing your face. Jewellery, minimal. Maybe a delicate silver chain.’
It had only been a week since she’d last imparted her expert knowledge to a grateful bride-to-be but Phoebe had missed it more than she knew.
‘Also, there’s no polite way to say this, but you’re wearing the wrong size bra,’ she said enthusiastically as Sophy groaned in the background. ‘Go to John Lewis and get properly measured before you come back for your next fitting.’
Joanna peered down at her bust. ‘I’ve been a 32 C since I was twelve.’
‘Then you’ve been wearing the wrong size bra since then,’ Phoebe said, her eyes narrowed. ‘I think you need to go down a band size and up a cup size.’
Before she could really warm to her theme, she was distracted by a hand on her arm.
‘A woman downstairs said I should come up here and you’d help me.’ It was a pretty young woman dressed from head to toe in designer gear. Phoebe pored overVogueevery month and even though she’d never wear it, she could recognise new-season Gucci when she saw it.
Even so, there was a system in place. You didn’t just let anyone gain admittance to the atelier. Not without Phoebe’s express permission.
Then again, if she could afford new-season Gucci then she had to be a big spender and they needed all the big spenders they could get.
‘What are you looking for?’ Phoebe asked because again, she could be flexible even when her system was being totally disrespected.
‘I’ve got a Halloween party next weekend,’ the woman said with a heavy sigh. ‘Very fancy. Very black tie. I need something with Morticia Addams vibes but not something that looks like a costume. A gown . . . I mean, a black gown is a wardrobe staple, right?’
‘Absolutely.’ Phoebe gave her a quick once-over. ‘I’ve got just the thing.’
Half an hour later, she was sent on her way with a sleek black dress with a fishtail hem that could have been made to her exact measurements and the details of a little shop in Mayfair, which did the best wigs.
Phoebe was on a roll. She was back doing what she’d been put on this earth to do.
She looked round the atelier for the next woman who needed her expertise but there was just Sophy wearing her fixed smile. ‘OK, I think I can take it from here.’
‘Are you sure?’ Phoebe asked because she couldn’t bear to be sent back down to the salt mines. Or the basement as it was known.
‘It’s nearly closing time on a Friday. Freddy could easily pop in on his way to The Hat and Fan and then it would become a whole thing.’ Sophy sighed as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. ‘He’s been in such a crabby mood this week. Not like Freddy at all.’
Even though she was hurt and angry with Freddy, Phoebe wasn’t going to comment. Especially now that she’d spoken to Johnno and could understand that maybe Freddy had worries about the future of the shop.
Then again, they were worries he could have shared with her. But he hadn’t. In much the same way that he hadn’t had Phoebe’s back.
So, if anyone should be angry, it was Phoebe.
But when she walked into The Hat and Fan an hour later, behind the rest of the staff, and she realised that Freddy wasn’t sitting with Charles and Miles because he was a no-show, she didn’t feel angry.
She just felt sad.
