Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
I glance at the snoring Chihuahua at the end of the bed. No wonder he’s not rearing to go.
BiteSizedGabi: Should I be concerned that my dog ventures off with you so willingly?
Eros415: You should be more concerned that you do the same thing. Letting strange masked men into your bedroom? Honestly, Gabi, it’s a little deranged.
BiteSizedGabi: Says the man who encourages it.
I slip on a bathrobe and pad down to the kitchen. In the fridge, I find another parfait from my favorite bakery—this time with cherries.
BiteSizedGabi: Sensing a theme here.
He sends me back a Ghostface meme that reads: I love it when we’re on a date, but only one of us knows it.
BiteSizedGabi: I should not be smiling at that.
Eros415: And yet you are.
A shiver moves through me as I glance around, as if he could actually see me. I don’t know why the idea of that gives me dark butterflies instead of the creeps. There’s something seriously wrong with me.
Maybe I am a little deranged.
I sit at the breakfast bar, eat the parfait, and plan my day. Now that I have the quiet of the penthouse to work in, I’ve been able to get ahead on my senior collection, and I want to keep up the momentum. It’s so much easier when I’m not distracted by the chaos in the classroom, and if I could, I would just do the bulk of my work here.
I spend some time chasing up that idea by pricing out drafting tables, fabric racks, and design tools, and adding them to a Pinterest board. It’s more of a dream than anything, because I can’t afford all the things I’d need to work from here entirely. Though truthfully, if I could have done the program virtually, I would have preferred that. I work better alone, in silence, when I have complete concentration.
When I’m finished trying to manifest an entire studio, I take a shower and start getting ready for the day. A quick glance at my phone alerts me to two new messages from Eros.
Eros415: OOTD pic.
Eros415: Wear the white socks.
BiteSizedGabi: Is this a new kink?
Eros415: My kink is you.
My heart does a little flip in my chest before I tell myself I need to calm down. I cannot get attached to this guy.
Still, that doesn’t stop me from going to my closet in search of the infamous white socks. I know he’s been stalking my Instagram, so he’s referring to the thigh-high knit socks. I pair them with a pink skirt, a cherry-printed cardigan, and a red beret. When I snap a picture and send it, I receive two replies within seconds.
Eros415: System Preferences Updated: Pink is my new favorite color.
Eros415: I’m going to peel those off you tonight.
BiteSizedGabi: You could come peel them off now.
Eros415: Don’t tempt me. You have homework to do. I’ll let you earn some extra credit later.
BiteSizedGabi: For you…I’m willing to put in the effort.
I venture down the hall, stopping in my room to grab Beppe. He likes to spend his weekends napping, and he knows when I’m working, he can relax. I settle him into his bed in the workspace and sit down, going over my notes from peer critiques.
The theme for my senior collection is coquette meets academia. My color palette centers around dusty rose, ivory, blush, charcoal gray, and black.
The design brief includes cropped tweed blazers, pleated skirts, bow-tied blouses, puff-sleeve cardigans, and a few deconstructed school uniform looks.
Embellishments and accessories are classic and understated—knit and ruffle socks, ribbon chokers, pearls, and Mary Janes.
Overall, my professor's feedback was good. She said that it was a niche market, but as long as I could define my customer base, it was a strong collection with unique styling.
During peer critiques, I received some of the expected remarks. Too romantic. Too feminine. A little "out there." On the flip side, there were positive notes about my clear voice and strong craftsmanship—with several glowing reviews. One classmate said it was giving Elle Woods meets Blair Waldorf, and that she loved it. Two of my peers even offered to model for me if they could keep the outfits.
Then, of course, there was Bethany and her gaggle of friends. They asked me if the collection had a tragic backstory, and called it mall-goth meets grandma’s doilies. Professor Harlow was quick to point out that their feedback wasn’t constructive, which put an end to their remarks, but not their amusement. They snickered for the rest of class, whispering to each other and casting looks my way.
I learned a long time ago that some people will always think I’m an easy target because I’m quiet in social settings. But as it turns out, I'm not the only one Bethany and her friends have been rude to, which became obvious during the reviews of their collections. After a barrage of constructive but harsh feedback, they left class much less buoyant than when they arrived.