Diane Foxington Dress Novels & Stories

“Eighty.” “Ninety.” The bidding stalled. I swallowed hard. Please, I thought. Please just let it end. Then— “Four hundred thousand.” The voice was cool. Unhurried. Feminine. My eyes jerked toward the sound. There—two balconies up, stage left—a Fox mask, slender and carved like it was sculpted from bone, turned slightly toward the stage. But it wasn’t the mask that made me choke. It was the dress. Black and sleek with silver embroidery, tight to the body like a second skin. The spiral tattoo on her arm coiled just above her glove.

"Hearing how you suddenly want to give it up, it'll be a lie to say I don't find it a pity. But when I first saw this dress, I felt that you'll definitely become something big again, whether you start from scratch or not." The dress was simply stunning, and it was impossible not to see it in any other way. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the design would beat everything else that was available on the market. Diana smiled brightly. Nina's encouragement raised her excitement concerning her future prospects. "Actually, I want to give this dress to Fanny, Oliver's girlfriend." ... When Diana and Nina arrived at the central hospital the following day, they found that the gynecology dep

Zita screamed. "Nat are you competing with Etienne's grandmom? Your dress should help Etienne to be glued to you entire night."She had a glint in her eyes. I held out yet another dress. "He is not taking you to the sunday's church service."I surrendered putting my hands up in the air dramatically. "Yes Zita bear, but I don't have anything to wear ."When do girls have sufficient dress? "Hey wait,maybe I've got the dress for you." She hurriedly opened her luggage and rummaged through her clothes.When she took out the beautiful dress I gasped.It was a golden sequin surplice wrap assymetrical cami dress.

She made herself a cup of tea and a sandwich, and carried it all through to the bedroom where she emptied her carrier bags onto her bed. She looked down at the pile and thought with a tinge of irony that she might have been a restraining influence but the clothes were lovely all the same. Diane Paxton might have accepted her suggestion that she shouldn’t outshine the guests, that perhaps dark colours and simple lines would be the most suitable, but she’d insisted on the best quality available. Irene had quailed inwardly at the prices, but Diane had confided that they’d be but a drop in the ocean for Murad Fullbuster.

Chapter 15: Nicky "Do you think I look good or are you lying to me because I'm your friend?" Nicky looked like a model who had just gotten out of Victoria's Secret runway. Her long legs, thin body, and completely symmetric face were the perfect combination. And not to mention her charming French accent, she was truly a delight. She was trying a cute little dress and cared about Gigi's opinion. Even though Gigi hadn't been studying Fashion for that long, in her friends' fantasy she was already better than Donatella Versace herself.

He remembered this dress—it was the same one she was wearing the very first night they met at the Cipriani Club. That was the night her ex-boyfriend broke things off with her—the same night he helped a very drunk Fiona to the lobby because she had too many glasses of champagne. She’d come a long way since then. For her to wear this show-stopping gown tonight was relevant for the themed evening. She was Daisy Buchanan in the flesh. When the crowd noise died down, Fiona took a confident step toward the microphone. Her blonde hair was held back from her face with a headband decorated with a single black feather plume and revealed her

Diane's hand fell on a simple cream netlike gown. "This is perfect, it can work for a dinner date and also for a casual date. I have a feeling Mr. Bianco will be taking you to a restaurant." I tried on the dress and it fit, it stopped a little bit above my thigh, and the bodice clung tight to my body but I wasn't uncomfortable. I twirled around, looking at my reflection in the mirror. "I like it," I told Diane, she nodded her head. " It's perfect. All you need is to do now is accessories." Diane picked a pair of cream Louboutin pumps and a strapless black Chanel purse.

“You’re not wasting anything. It’s practice, remember? Plus, from those text messages you showed me, this dude will freak out if you bail on him now.” When Lucia saw the armfuls of dresses that Diana brought into the dressing room, she thought about bailing again. “Diana, these don’t look—” “Don’t argue with me. Try them on.” “No, next.” Diana barely glanced at her in the dress before she vetoed it and pulled another dress from a hanger. Diana grinned. "I've got just the thing," she said, pulling out a stunning black dress with a fitted bodice and a full skirt.

She asked and looked at Alexa, "Who would have the honor of dressing you up on your wedding day?" "Me, of course." Cassidy raised her hand and Doreen scoffed, sweeping her hair backwards slightly as she turned to Cassidy. "What do you know about the designing of dresses?" She asked. Cassidy frowned, "Look, I have put on dresses on Alexandra that made men swoon over her. Ask her, she'll testify." She pointed at Alexandra and Alexa nodded, giving her accolade. "Well, this dress is mainly for Mr Jordans to swoon over her, not other men." Doreen shot.

"I've already gone with you to try that dress several times. What's wrong with missing it once? Natalie just got back. She was alone with all that luggage. "As a friend, I had to pick her up. You're usually so reasonable. Why make a fuss over something this small? Do you really have to give me the silent treatment over this?" "I'm fine." I brushed his hands away, hung the towel back on the rack, and turned to leave. "Really?" Enzo followed me out, sounding noticeably more relaxed. "Did you finalize the dress yesterday, then? Send me the bill. I'll sign it." I walked over to the bedside table, pulled open the drawer, and took out the stamped order form.