The Dress Maker Novels & Stories

He looked like a gentleman, dressed in black pants, a white shirt, and a black vest with a black tie. Marie already dressed him when I was getting my eye makeup done. I was so anxious to close my eyes around him that I held his hand or kept touching his toes all the time to feel he was near me, close to me in ways he was never before. "Your dress is so pretty ma'am..." The makeup artist said. "Did you design it?" "No..." I shook my head. "My business partner and friend, Jonathan West did." "This dress feels from an exclusive collection," The hairstylist said.

“For women who refuse to feel small.” "Sophia, this is brilliant. Ethan said, “Do you know how many women would kill for a dress that makes them feel like this?" "I have a friend," Lorenzo said unexpectedly. Everyone turned to look at him. "She runs a textile company in Italy. Produces the finest fabrics in the world. I could make an introduction." "And I know a pattern maker," Damian added. "Wait." Sophia held up her hands, overwhelmed. "You're all acting like this is already a real business. It's just one sketch."

After placing two glasses of water on the table, she sat across from us and folded her hands neatly on her lap. "I should tell you this before we go any further," she said honestly. "This is the first dress I've made since reopening my business. Every stitch was sewn by hand. I don't have a full team working with me yet, so I need more time than a normal fashion house would. You would probably be better off choosing someone with a larger studio." I smiled. "Can I see the dress?" She studied me for a moment before quietly standing up and disappearing into the back room.

On the wall with the stairs was a TV showing pictures of the dresses that she had made. On the remaining wall were racks with dresses that were pending pickup. There was a high rack for the longer dresses, a mid-rack for adult dresses and two racks, one above the other, for the little girl dresses. Electra placed a hand over her mouth as tears fell freely down her cheeks. “Hadrian,” she whispered. “You did this for me?” “I did this for us,” Hadrian corrected softly. “I see how much you love making the dresses. You needed a place to do it.”

The dress hung on the back of the door. "I will do better," I whispered to him. "I promise." I started over. I stopped trying to sell to boutiques. Instead, I made clothes for women like me, who wanted to feel beautiful but had little money. I sewed at night because the days belonged to Matteo. I bought cheap fabric remnants from wholesale shops. I kept the designs simple. If you cut the fabric correctly and finish the seams properly, a simple dress looks expensive.

Guess it finally did. [Damn, she's lucky, right? Andrew Arlington. That family's serious old money.] [For real. I heard her dress alone cost five figures today.] [Five figures? No way. I heard it was custom. Just the hand embroidery took three months...] Skeet exited the chat. Bella in that dress kept flashing in his head. Then he laughed. It came out bitter, like chewing sand. Seven years. He thought they were solid. He was wrong. What he called "solid" was her staying quiet. Putting up with everything. Always backing him.

I spat out as quickly and sweetly as I could as to not let on what was going on inside me. “If it’s ok, Idris and I had a really long day in town. The dress maker has been making something special for me for years she said. That was alot to take in. I have never met her before and now all this information about the event of the century, I would just please like to lie down.” I say looking at them both with tired eyes. “Rose, is the dressmaker. She is absolutely amazing, and the moment I saw you I knew that dress was for you from the start.” Lindy says with a wink.

"The dresses were not made by me...but my daughter you can ask her for the price." Byron always let Madeline earn money for herself, he knew there would be a day where he would not be here with her, so he hoped she could protect herself when he was gone. The woman turned to Madeline direction in awe, the dress maker was this beautiful young lady. "Miss how much for the dress, I'll pay any amount you wish." The beret lady as earnestly, if she wanted the dress she would have to be polite with the maker. "What dress do you wish to buy...."

She said, smacking her lips in disappointment as she began to walk slowly away from me. I recognized the dress, as a matter of fact, I recognized the face behind that dress. It was a huge ball dress that geeked royalty. It had lots of gems on it, arranged in a customized pattern that had the name of the person that made it around the hem. It was made by the best seamstress in and around Odyssey and she was none other than my mother, Queen Penelope. She made the dress long before she met father as her older sisters had foreseen that she was going to be queen. Mother said she spent all day for three weeks, sewing this dress with so much love and affection as she wanted it to capture the heart

She scowled lightly. "I took the measurements myself." Anna stated proudly, leaning on one hip. "You did?" Annabelle, the dress make turned to her. "Indeed, I did." She nodded with a proud smile, eyeing her friend. Annabelle smiled at her. "Well allow me to say you did wonderful, are you a designer yourself?" She asked. Anna shook her head. "Not really, I am a make up artiste. But my mother was a seamstress." She explained. "Interesting." The dressmaker smiled, turning to Hazel. "I am sure this dress would marvel your guests are the wedding, Mr. Rossi would be satisfied with my work." She praised herself, feeling obviously content and proud.