Decora Fashion の小説・ストーリー

), Deja was laser-focused on one thing: The Ultimate Distraction. “No,” her mother said flatly, staring at the sketch Deja had presented. “Absolutely not.” They were in the Moreau mansion’s sunroom, surrounded by swatches of fabric, design boards, and half-empty cups of coffee. Deja had been working with a designer friend on her outfit for the gala—a creation that would make her previous fashion choices look positively demure. “But Mom,” Deja argued, “it’s crucial to the plan!” “Having my daughter show up looking like a disco ball had a baby with a flamingo is not crucial to anything except my early demise,” her mother retorted.

She says and I immediately spit out my coffee from my mouth and she gasps, "What is it?" "You don't like the coffee." She asks, "No, I like the coffee, but is that exactly what is written there live?" I ask with my eyes wide open. "Yeah, that's what written here, and it clearly states saying, Fast rising fashion house Cherlins Co-operatives has been assigned for the hotel's decorations in preparation for its grand opening, all potential fashion houses and event planners should stop sending in requests and bids." She explains facing her phone screen to me, I see it boldly written and just keep staring at it.

Her hands were a little shaky, but she started typing. Subject: A Fashion Proposal for the Upcoming Business Gala Dear Ms. Holland, My name is Sylvania Scarlet, and I’m the founder of a new underground fashion brand called Scarlet Fashions. I know this might be unusual, but I’ve always admired your strength, your work, and the way you empower women through your businesses. I would be honored if you would consider wearing one of my original designs at the upcoming Business Gala. I believe fashion should reflect who we truly are; beautiful, fearless, and full of purpose, and I’d love to create something just for you.

Summer's POV The black dress Luxian picked hugs my body perfectly. For the first time in years—after drowning in all my stupid insecurities—I actually feel beautiful again. Like I did a decade ago. The dress is by Mario De Franco, that ridiculously talented designer whose pieces usually I used to just stare at his work in magazines, never dreaming I'd own one. But this afternoon, Luxian waltzed in with five of his latest creations, all on mannequins like they were royalty.

His hair was neatly styled, his face confident—at least, trying to look that way. Emma would be happy seeing this. He imagined her expression as she stepped into the ballroom. Her eyes would sparkle. Her lips might curve into that small smile she rarely showed. All these colors were Emma’s favorites. Soft white. Warm gold. Elegant touches of pastel flowers. Luxurious, but not excessive. Jonathan had even changed the decorations three times because he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to give the best impression for the most important day of their lives. Today had to be perfect.

She couldn’t help but feel insulted, unable to accept the beauty Celeste was now displaying. Chiarra’s dress was a shiny gold gown with glitter, which made it stand out. It had no sleeves, exposing her beautiful collarbone and shoulders. The dress clung tightly to Celeste’s chest and waist, and Chiarra’s gaze lingered on Celeste’s exposed cleavage.

"What? I took Art History." "I never said you were," I laughed. "You just usually prefer your art on Hermes scarves." "Fashion is art," she sniffed, but her eyes were twinkling. "And significantly more practical. You can't wear a Monet." "Not with that attitude." After the museum, Scarlett went off for what she termed a "crucial shopping reconnaissance mission," I opened my laptop and began researching Leblanc & Associates more thoroughly. Their website was a masterpiece of clean, elegant design—exactly what you'd expect from a world-class architecture firm.

"I'm an old friend of Julian's. We went to university together. I've been living in Paris for the past decade, but I've finally decided to come home." "Lena is a fashion designer," Julian added. "One of the best. She's had shows in Paris, Milan, New York. The Cross Gallery hosted her first exhibition." "You're too kind." Lena waved her hand again, but her eyes were studying Clara with an intensity that was almost unsettling. "Whitmore Fashion Group, you said? I've heard wonderful things about your rebranding project. The industry is buzzing." "Thank you. It's been a lot of work, but we're excited about the direction."