Mr Fashionable Novels & Stories

She swiftly made an appointment at his prestigious shop, promising a touch of elegance and sophistication for the weddings as his works had spoken for him. As the appointed day arrived, excitement lingered in the air as Gabriella, Isabella, and Emily readied themselves to visit Freddie's establishment. The three women were eager to meet the renowned stylist and explore the possibilities that could make the weddings even more special. The journey to Freddie's shop was filled with laughter and chatter, their enthusiasm lighting up the car. They exchanged ideas, dreams, and hopes for the weddings, eager to merge their visions into a beautiful reality. Arriving at the stylist's opulent shop, the

I didn't bother with any makeup other than a swipe of deep red lipstick. When she's going to die, what does a female need with mascara? Felix gracefully gets up from the couch. He sets his whisky down on the glass coffee table while maintaining eye contact with me. Ropey muscles bulge and contract beneath his white shirt as he stalks towards me. Because he is so attractive, most girls would take one glance at him and then spend the next month masturbating in public. She had honey-gold skin, dark eyes with hoods, a sly grin, and thick chestnut hair that you could tell was as soft as it appeared to be. The high-end attire and flawless fashion sense also help. Even his aroma, which is deep sand

Marco Francesco escorted a woman across the marble steps toward me. She was wearing a lush red dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her heels clicked with confidence, hips swaying like she knew what I wanted. Long dark hair, porcelain skin, light blue eyes—not as intense as hers, but the resemblance was enough to twist something in my gut. Francesco stopped in front of me, a scowl on his face. “She looks like her,” he muttered.

Autumn bent down and hugged Mrs Fraser who held her more than she could have bargain until she finally released Autumn at Charlie's urgency. "Mrs Fraser." The three turned to see Iris who was dressed extravagantly unlike everyone in the room who barely wore a pop of color. Iris was wearing a bright lemon haute couture dress. The dress was strapless, with a choker-style neckpiece attached to it, giving it a modern, edgy look. "I've heard so much about you." Iris muttered bowing in respect waiting for Mrs Fraser to probably tell her to come and hug her as well but she remained frozen in her spot.

Evelyn said, gesturing to a tall, elegant woman with a confident demeanour. Francoise greeted us warmly. "Welcome, darling! Evelyn told me you need a makeover." Evelyn nodded vigorously. "My brother's wife needs to look stunning for the press conference tomorrow." Francoise wasted no time. She began working magic on my hair, transforming it into elegant waves that cascaded down my shoulders. As I gazed in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The reflection staring back was polished and glamorous, a stark contrast to the girl who had walked into the store just hours before.

This here, screams power and wealth. I take my eyes off the interior for a bit and there, I notice, seated in one of the chairs is a woman. Not just a woman but a very beautiful woman. She is clad in a red, silk dress with matching red lips. She has a bored expression masked with a smile on her face, so she looks like she is trying very hard— but failing— to look happy or interested in whatever is going on this evening. She had matching diamond necklace and bracelet. I don't need to be told who the mistress of the house is because her appearance and demeanor scream it loud enough for me to not miss it. This is certainly Francesca. She looks like a Francesca, sophisticated like her name.

But laughter drifted from the living room, pulling her curiosity toward the source. She rounded the corner and found Lily and their mother, Clara, bent over a large glossy box sitting on the coffee table. The box was pristine white with silver letters shimmering across the top M&D FASHION HOUSE. Isabella froze. She knew that name. Everyone in the city did. Dresses from M&D weren’t simply clothes; they were statements, often worn by the rich, powerful, or impossibly famous. “What’s going on here?” Isabella asked, tilting her head as she dropped her handbag onto the nearest chair.

“Lord Grant, the formal pelt is prepared.” Madison’s eyes practically ignited. Even from a distance, the dark shimmer of the silk and the glint of the dragon-glass jewelry screamed of high-caste wealth. “My thanks.” She smoothed her gravy-stained furs, attempting to reclaim her hollow dignity as she stepped toward the servant carrying the gown. Just as her clawed fingers reached out to claim the prize, the attendant stepped laterally, moving past her as if she were a common forest stray.

“I don’t know if you’re lying or not Tristan, but I simply can’t stand that bitch. I managed to kick her away in the past and I certainly can do that again. I will crush you, Marissa.” ********* Later that evening, I went shopping for my dress. That was when fate smiled at me. Arya Rothschild. The heiress of the Rothschild fashion dynasty in Greenville. They were the founding family of Fashion Houses in Greenville. She walked into the boutique surrounded by maids, assistants, and luxury like the world owed her breath. A spoiled brat, yes. But powerful and Untouchable. And I adored her. I greeted her eagerly, bowing just slightly.

All angles were taken so she just made a wide sweet smile. This is the life she lived so it is forbidden to be ashamed because when you make a mistake or you just stumble, you will be the talk of the netizens. Being a fashion model is just like the artists who are just a little bit will be talked about by the media. "Miss Britney, look at the camera ... Smile ..." said the person holding the camera as they took those photos. She also smiled very sweetly to be more pretentious. Thank you Miss!" they thanked after getting photos of her.