Mr Fashionable Novels & Stories

Her eyes skimmed over the sender: Maison Rouge Official. Maison Rouge? Her heart missed a beat. The brand ranked among the most prominent luxury fashion houses, known for its spectacular runway presentations and celebrity clientele. Scarlet's interest was aroused when she opened the mail. “Subject: Exclusive Invitation – Maison Rouge Fashion Show Dear Scarlet Sinclair, We are excited to announce an exclusive opportunity to walk in our featured Maison Rouge Fashion Show! Your elegant grace, stature and beauty match precisely what we are designing for this upcoming collection season. This upcoming show is destined to become a historical milestone in fashion while we strongly desire your presen

~••Ava••~ The dress was suffocating. Red silk and sequins cling to my body like a second skin. Designed to flaunt curves I didn't want anyone in Aleksei's world to see. The slit on the side was too high, the neckline too low and every step I took in the towering heels felt like a deliberate test of my patience.

Many people then began to see her in a new light. This girlfriend of Justin's turned out to be not as bad as the rumors suggested. "This young lady is pretty and has a decent demeanor," one said. "Yeah, if you have a chance, you should hang out with Mrs. Farrow more often!" another said. Flattered by the compliments, Candice felt a little full of herself. She immediately said, "Madam Hamilton, your dress is gorgeous. It's the new autumn-winter design from Gerine, isn't it?" "Yes. Did you know about it?" Charlotte asked.

Ruth smiled a happy smile. "I came here about three hours before you did. I was so booted so I decided to go and try to make a dent in my husband's credit card," Ruth said. She rolled her eyes and smirked as she said 'My husband'. Christine was not shocked. Ruth was the only person she knew who could fill an entire wardrobe with clothes she bought in just ten minutes. Not only was she a nymphomaniac, but she was also a shopaholic. "I can't make it to New York tomorrow. I will try and do so probably in the next two days," Christine said.

Thinking of his face when he would be sweating profusely because of unbearable pain and not being able to do anything, she felt extermely happy and started smiling. By the time she came back to her senses they were at his friend's boutique. Known to Nick was, what Mira hated the most is to sit in a salon for hours to get ready for a meal/party. She really doesn't understand why the rich spend so much money on a dress they hardly wear or the makeup they would have to remove before the day ends. But still she followed the stylist inside to get herself a makeover. "You seem very special to Nick. He has never brought any women here but you are already here multiple times." Trish remarked.

His eyes rake over me, setting my skin aflame with the heat of remembered pleasures. Dressed in a pristine, white, high collared dress shirt, a tuxedo that looks like it was sent from above, specially for his body, and dark slacks, Mason Lachlan can comfortably be compared to an Adonis. His hair isn't gelled back this time. It falls in soft, tousled waves over his forehead, adding that bad boy, dangerous look to his entire billionaire get up. Mason Lachlan is good looking in a steely, untouchable kind of way.

Then. The third person walks in. The room seems to shift around her. She isn't loud. She doesn't demand attention. Yet somehow... She has it. She wears a cream-colored tailored suit with understated gold jewelry. Her strawberry-blonde hair falls neatly over one shoulder, and every step she takes is measured, effortless. She can't be much older than twenty-seven. Confident. Elegant. And completely composed. Madame Laurent actually smiles. A real smile. "Welcome back."

" he called back as his face held a wide grin. They ran into each other's arms holding themselves like two lovers who had been separated for years. Like seriously, what do they think they're doing right now. They unlocked from the hug and laughed. "You've gotten more handsome since the last time I saw you" the strange lady cooed cupping his cheeks. "Are you kidding me, you're looking more pretty" Nicholas replied and she giggled. I stood blinking my eyes rapidly at the live drama in front of me. Okay, it seems I've become invisible. I walked past them and trudged up the stairs.

Mason – Private Lounge, Founders Fundraiser The low thrum of music pulsed through the walls, but Mason couldn’t hear shit over the blood boiling in his damn ears. He yanked his tie loose, fingers tight, jaw clenched so hard it ached. That fucking dress. Aria hadn’t worn the goddamn dress he bought her. The one he had hand-picked. Silk. Custom. Expensive as hell. And she shows up in some frothy little off-the-shoulder thing, curls wild like she’s tryna look like a fucking temptress for someone else.

She could feel Andrew’s eyes locked on her and burning fiercely and seeking relief, glanced up at Monsieur Moreau to find him wearing the smirk of a well-fed and pampered cat. The clothier cast a second peek at Madame’s notes, then set them aside and picked up a measuring tape before moving towards Evelyn. “Magnifique.” “Exactly. Far too magnificent to be wearing that garbage.” Andrew nodded towards the dressing room. Pausing his advance, Monsieur snapped his fingers at Claudia as she made a quiet escape with the bagged blindingly-pink Schiaparelli. Madame’s assistant presented it to him, and unzipping it along the front, he took one look before his face pulled into a tight disgusted pinch.