Alice
The off-the-shoulder sleeves left my neck and shoulders bare, all the way down to my cleavage – and thanks to the lace-up bustier bodice, there was a LOT of cleavage. It draped over my hips in an asymmetrical skirt, which fell just below my knee on one side, but barely skimmed my thigh on the other. It was a sexy, provocative dress. A few weeks ago, I would have said it was totally NOT me, but as I stood in the twins' closet, looking at myself in the mirror, it WAS me.
It had always been me; it just took George and Gillian to help me see it.
George and Gillian had been whisked off to some other part of the house to prepare for the ceremony. Supposedly it was tradition that we not see each other until it was time. (I still say it sounds an awful lot like a wedding.)
