Glancing in the mirror one last time, I turned to the side, checking the way my dress fell down my body, hugging both my hips and breasts tight before slightly flaring and hanging loosely around the tops of my thighs. It was short. It was green. And it was made of the softest material I’d ever touched. Hendrix would love it. Grandmama? Not so much. And Lord, it was a good thing Daddy was at the fire station for the next twelve or so hours. He would have had a stroke if he saw what I was wearing.
