Funny how a little thing called inspiration knocked on the proverbial door when you least expected it.
Victory had been out and about in search of just that when she overheard the conversation. Wearing a tan trench over a navy blue and white striped thigh length dress of her own design, she arched one eyebrow behind the over-sized sunglasses she wore even indoors. After a moment of sizing the woman up who was so obviously nowhere near overweight, her high heeled knee high boots clicked over the floor as she neared the situation.
With a tap to the shoulder of the salesman, she cleared her throat. "Well aren't you the bees with honey, type? Scoot."
The man huffed away, but also seemed grateful for the escape. And Victory, she walked around the woman once. "Did you say vintage?"
She was this close to ripping his head off verbally when the woman came between them.
"Heya, I ...umh, yes?"
Taking a deep breath, she added. "I mean, I know that real vintage has to come from vintage stores and all, but sometimes, just sometimes, they have stuff in season that works for me. It's all about the fit. At five foot five and a half, with the same measurements that is normal for a runway model, it's hard to find that kind of thing. I like the older stuff because I like swing era, fifties and sometimes sixties stuff, but also because it was geared for women my height or at least there was some sort of attempt ...you know?" All in one breath, she laughed then.
"Sorry, I guess we can knock off the espresso break I was planning or go decaf." Currently wearing a white linen dress black belt and red shoes, she felt comfortable whether or not it was in season.
"There's never too much espresso, trust me." Victory still eyed the woman, guessing measurements and filing them away in her mind. This woman had the perfect figure for vintage.
"You look stunning. I'm Victory Ford, and you are?" She held her notepad under one arm along with a small bag and held out her hand in greeting.
"It's becoming a weakness when I am in New York. Gotta love a double mocha Venti with all the works. I blame Starbucks for that.
"Hey thanks!" Maggie held out her had as well, shaking it before adding."I'm Maggie and thanks for shooing that guy away. I'm guessing they don't get combat pay here."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Maggie laughed a little, already feeling a lot better about the situation.
"Well, most of the time I do. Not always though. I'd say about seventy-five percent is vintage. Sounds silly, but I do like the dressing up aspect of it all."
"A lot of my work is a more modern vintage inspired, although I have been known to go classic vintage." Victory said. "But you have a great figure to pull it off. I like playing dress up too. Always have."
"I hear ya. So, you get paid to do entire lines in places like this? Do you ever do personal lines? I might be interested if we can come up with a happy medium. Yeah sure, I live in Jersey, but I travel a lot on the bigger gambling circuits. My dresses would be commented on for sure."
"I rarely do personal lines, but you travel a lot? Do people ask you who you're wearing? That always helps." Victory asked, looking over the top of her sunglasses as she guessed a measurements in her mind.
"Yep, I do and some do ask and most can't believe how little I paid, but it would be nice to say it's something designed just for me and here you go, this is the designer's name."
"How would I ..I'd love it!" Maggie gave a gregarious handshake when opportunity arose again, delighted the burden of running through department stores was done for this particular time.
"I mean yes, that would be great." She added with more thought and a smile.
Victory had been out and about in search of just that when she overheard the conversation. Wearing a tan trench over a navy blue and white striped thigh length dress of her own design, she arched one eyebrow behind the over-sized sunglasses she wore even indoors. After a moment of sizing the woman up who was so obviously nowhere near overweight, her high heeled knee high boots clicked over the floor as she neared the situation.
With a tap to the shoulder of the salesman, she cleared her throat. "Well aren't you the bees with honey, type? Scoot."
The man huffed away, but also seemed grateful for the escape. And Victory, she walked around the woman once. "Did you say vintage?"
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"Heya, I ...umh, yes?"
Taking a deep breath, she added. "I mean, I know that real vintage has to come from vintage stores and all, but sometimes, just sometimes, they have stuff in season that works for me. It's all about the fit. At five foot five and a half, with the same measurements that is normal for a runway model, it's hard to find that kind of thing. I like the older stuff because I like swing era, fifties and sometimes sixties stuff, but also because it was geared for women my height or at least there was some sort of attempt ...you know?" All in one breath, she laughed then.
"Sorry, I guess we can knock off the espresso break I was planning or go decaf." Currently wearing a white linen dress black belt and red shoes, she felt comfortable whether or not it was in season.
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"You look stunning. I'm Victory Ford, and you are?" She held her notepad under one arm along with a small bag and held out her hand in greeting.
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"Hey thanks!" Maggie held out her had as well, shaking it before adding."I'm Maggie and thanks for shooing that guy away. I'm guessing they don't get combat pay here."
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"Tell me, do you always go vintage?" She asked.
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"Well, most of the time I do. Not always though. I'd say about seventy-five percent is vintage. Sounds silly, but I do like the dressing up aspect of it all."
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"I mean yes, that would be great." She added with more thought and a smile.
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do you still want to rp this thread?
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