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*Disclaimer, this short story was written by me, I would never share a client's work.
White Frills and Flowers
When I was 9, my Mum brought me a dress. It was purple with frills on the sleeve and had
white flowers. I kept in my wardrobe right at the back and it was so beautiful. I loved it to much that I was afraid to wear it, so it just stayed their and was never worn. Now that I’m older, and wiser some may say, I think about that Purple dress and how something so beautiful was hidden away and held hostage between four walls of wood. When I think about the purple dress with frills on the sleeve and white flowers, I ask myself, was it too special to wear? Or too good for me, too good for the word I was living in? There was never the right or appropriate time to wear this dress.
A few months ago, I found the dress, in the same place I put it when my mum bought it for me. I gave it to my niece who was smitten by it. She loved the white flowers and wasn’t fussed about the fact it was 15 years old and out of fashion. She adored it, and wore it all the time, to the shops, cinema, sunday dinner and even on our dog walks with her white wellies. The time or place didn’t matter to her, she just wanted to wear the dress and didn’t care about the fact it was inappropriate or if people told her she looked silly. It didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care.
So maybe I’m your purple dress. You don’t want to wear me because your waiting for the right time. But I know the right time won’t come, I waited years to wear that dress but every time the opportunity came along, I was saving it, waiting for perfection. But soon enough, the dress didn’t fit anymore and was pushed to the back of the wardrobe, replaced by skinny jeans and printed tees.
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