IRIS
"This is too much," I whispered to myself, overwhelmed. "I don't know what to make of this."
The stylist didn't give me time to overthink. She began passing me outfit after outfit to try on—everything from high-waisted jeans to tight leggings and sleek joggers. I quickly noticed a pattern. Every single top was cropped, revealing my bare waistline, and tailored so tightly that it outlined the heavy shape of my breasts.
After changing into a pair of soft joggers and a tight crop top, I stood before her, refusing to put on another gown.
"You should change back into one of the dresses, Iris," the stylist urged, checking her tablet. "Those are just casual wear."
"No," I responded firmly, gripping the hem of the shirt. "I am perfectly okay in this."
The last thing I wanted was to retu
