Modiste Bridgerton Novels & Stories

Elice and Garrett had changed their clothes, wearing modern outfits that complemented each other perfectly. Looking like a princess in the modern world, Elice wore a wedding dress made by a famous designer. It had a simple yet elegant design, with a layered mermaid neckline that caught everyone's eye. The uniqueness of the gown undoubtedly made it the center of attention, especially with its tube top style that accentuated Elice's sleek shoulders. Completing the ensemble was a bridal veil with a gold floral motif that added to Elice's stunning appearance. She truly became the queen of the day.

I threw my hands up in the air so he could get a view of the exquisite dress I was wearing that cost a fortune. "Tell me, Felix Sterling. Can you even afford this kind of clothes? Of course not." Felix's eyes squinted, and Jessica leaned in. "The dress is from Lady Modella. The highest-paid designer in Langford." Everyone gasped in awe—as they should. Lady Modella was an ancient goddess of fashion. Believe me, I'd know because she was one of my tutors when I was growing up. I was going to be the heiress of the Belmont Fashion Empires, so I was made to learn from the best.

she replied, all smiles at Rod who was standing with folded arms behind me. “Now listen up, Pamela, you can assemble all your sisters, including yourself to crave Rod. You can as well take the gowns he bought for me. I am Melissa Brant, I don’t give a damn about Rod whether he falls from the moon or his stomach is made of steel. Now, I see you don’t want me to patronize your fashion home, I will take my patronage elsewhere.”

Bridget Kennedy was the kind of woman who walked into a room and made it impossible not to notice her. Tall, statuesque, with wavy chestnut hair cascading over her shoulders, emerald eyes sharp and alive behind gold-rimmed glasses. Every inch of her bespoke designer dress screamed power and privilege. She was the heiress to a sprawling fortune, raised among marble pillars and silver spoons. John Batista was exactly the opposite. Dirt-streaked hands, faded jeans, and a tired smirk that came from years of scraping by. His world was the cramped apartment he shared with three cousins and a mother who worked two jobs. He was used to being invisible, overlooked—until that fateful day.

I had promised Sophia that we would spend the day together, but I knew that I couldn't abandon my wife on her special day. As we stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, I couldn't help but be struck by Bridgette's elegance. She wore a stunning red gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. The dress was made of silk and chiffon, with intricate lace details that sparkled in the light. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was subtle yet flawless. She looked like a true queen, and I couldn't help but feel proud to be her husband.

She's back. Hearsay didn't vanish. Colton was flocked with people murmuring around him. “Ain't no way Mrs. Vistagra is back! I can't believe she's the famous and genius designer behind the successful designer and clothing brand named Bellissima!” “Ah, but come to think of it. This exhibition is arranged solely for Miss Andy Moore, Mr. Vistagra's fiance!”

The sleeves were long and flowing, with tiny pearls and crystals sewn into the fabric, catching the light as I moved. The skirt fell in soft folds to the floor, with a subtle train that would flow behind me as I walked. The entire gown was a work of art, with every stitch and detail carefully considered to create a breathtakingly beautiful whole. “The modiste never misses.” I gasped. I couldn't help but feel like a princess as I gazed at the gown, hardly able to wait to slip into its delicate folds and feel like royalty. The modiste had truly outdone herself, capturing the essence of my personality and style in every aspect of the design.