But nevertheless, I unlocked the cubicle and stepped out allowing both my Mum and Asher to get a good look at me.
They were both quiet for moment before mum spoke. "It's not right. It's missing something," she said with that thoughtful look in her eyes.
"Yeah maybe straps and sleeves that are long enough to cover my arms," I drawled.
"No, that's not it," Ash said. "Go and change, though that one might be a possibility."
I sighed and went back into the cubicle. I don't know how long or how many dresses I had tried on. Everyone one of them was either not good enough, too revealing, too short, too tight, too bland and so on as Asher put it in his own words. Somewhere along the lines I began to think that he was the fashion designer and not my mum. I was beginning to get frustrated because
