Silverside Academy

Good Fit/Bad Influence

Eilidh was surprised at her mother’s sudden motion.

“This is the right amount.” Her nostrils flared the way they always did when she was stubbornly insisting on something. She knew her mother’s words were final, and didn’t even attempt to argue.

“Although…” Janet glanced around, her eyes finally landing on her target: the shoe wall. “Let’s go get you a couple pairs. You’ll need new shoes anyway.”

Mom, you don’t have to do all this. We can at least go to a cheap place for my shoes.

With deft fingers and determination, Janet quickly grabbed a pair of black loafers, some mary janes, and even a nice athletic pair of tennies.

The sweet, full scent of real leather curled around Eilidh’s nose, but it only served to make her more nervous.

She must be dipping into all of our savings for this.

Still, she dutifully followed her to the dressing room without further objection.

At least it’s almost over. The thought helped to put her at ease just a little. She thought the worst thing would be trying the clothes on. But now she had to contend with the stratospheric price tag that came with it.

Then, she noticed Alexia.

The woman was following them like a lioness stalking her prey.

I can’t believe she’s acting like we’re criminals just because we’re not her typical clientele. What an absolute jerk.

Their eyes met, and the woman came from behind the clothing rack. “Oh, are you ready?” Then, without letting them respond, “Please, let me know if there’s anything I can get for you; water, wine - even just a different size!”

Didn’t we just have this conversation? Why did Alexia make her distrust so obvious?

Her sunny smile barely scraped the steely glint in Janet’s eyes.

“We will.” Her voice matched the warm tone of the woman’s, and all of its sincerity - or lack there of.

They turned their backs on Alexia, even as she began a spiel about tailoring.

With all of her nonsense, escaping into the changing room actually felt like a reprieve. For once.

Eilidh pushed open one of the stall doors and was greeted by one of the most luxurious changing rooms she’d ever seen. The little bit of relief she’d managed to capture evaporated. A new kind of dread threatened to push up her lunch.

There wasn’t just a cheap, plastic mirror to one corner with an uncomfortable bench to put stuff on. There was a full-length mirror on 2 of the walls. One of which was a tri-fold model, all the better to see every single angle from.

The thought that anyone would want to see that much of themselves was foreign to her.

She was surprised to see that there was also a smaller mirror, hung perfectly at the average height.

Do they think they have enough mirrors? How many do they really need?

This is so disorienting. She looked for a place to hang her clothes. There was a built-in closet, as well as a few subtle wall hangers.

She thought it was as beautiful as it was over-the-top.

She set her purse down on a small stand next to a lush bench seat.

As she slipped off her shoes and got undressed, she eyed the waiting chair and odd, faux-marble flooring. The flooring itself wasn’t real stone, but colored concrete dyed a subtle suede tan. It fit with the aesthetics really well. But the ‘veins’ in them were mirrored.

It offered her an unwanted view of herself.

As if the regular mirrors weren’t bad enough…

Once she was stripped down to her undies, she walked over and selected one of the larger skirts. She didn’t even want to bother with the smaller sizes, but her mother always insisted that she try on a couple of different sizes ‘just to be sure’.

She expected the thick skirt to feel heavy and uncomfortable, but was pleasantly surprised by how nice it felt.

Out of habit, she sucked in a non-existent gut, as if she could actually make her hips smaller by sheer force of will.

The skirt nearly zipped up all the way.

Eilidh’s eyes grew wide.

I thought these stuck up shops ran small… This is almost perfect.

Feeling a little more hopeful, she re-hung the skirt and grabbed the next size up.

It fit like a glove. And it didn’t look provocative at all. At least not intentionally.

Even if someone likes how I look in it, I know that it’ll be because they like me. Not because they think I’m trying to get their attention.

Heart beating fast, she quickly paired a shirt with it.

Oh my gosh.

The shirt didn’t emphasize her waist, and the buttons didn’t gap over her bust.

She couldn’t help but admire herself in the mirror. It wasn’t vanity, but utter and complete acceptance of herself for the first time in years.

It just looks like a normal shirt…

Well, almost. The fact that the material was practically heaven-sent was just a bonus.

Why’d it have to take such crazy extreme circumstances just for me to find a good outfit?

Pushing those thoughts away, she carefully slipped one of the pairs of shoes on and stepped out for Janet’s approval.

The moment she did, a part of her felt different.

“Oh, my baby! You look so beautiful! Look at that cut!” Janet cooed the words through clasped hands. “Do you like it? Tell me you like it!”

This is how it should have always been.

That weird sort of thinking again, the one that didn’t quite feel like her. It was so arrogant now. It almost tempted her to preen.

Instead, she chose a more subtle response. “Yeah, Mom. I like it. A lot, actually.” Her cheeks burned. It had been so long since she actually got to enjoy shopping, or even just feel comfortable in her own clothes. So this… it was nice.

“Good,” Janet said, clapping her hands for emphasis. “Then go try the rest on.”

The whole ordeal didn’t take very long at all. Once she got the hang of her size, it was fun to try on the different cuts and styles. And it was easy to pick the pieces she wanted for school.

The only downside came when they stepped out of the dressing area with only about half the things they’d gone in with.

Eilidh noticed the not-so-subtle nod Alexia gave to one of her minions as they walked past. The associate quickly returned the curt gesture and made her way into the room they’d been in.

She couldn’t help but gawk, turning her head to follow the underling. After only a moment, the girl poked her head out and nodded once.

The clothes Eilidh hadn’t chosen were draped over her arm.

Disrespectful fool. Don’t they know who we are?

It seemed her mother had similar feelings. She crossed her arms, and when Alexia gave them another sunny smile, she wasn’t moved.

“Is that all?” She eyed their clothes and accessories with just a flash of contempt. “We have more, if you’d like to fill it out? Add a little more variety?”

Janet couldn’t believe this woman’s audacity. Even knowing that they were customers, that her daughter was going to the school that likely kept this boutique in business, the witch couldn’t stop taking jabs at them.

A cruel smirk curled her lips.

“No, thank you. I think we’re very confident with what we’ve chosen.”

Seemingly undeterred - or perhaps just enjoying her petty little game of cat and mouse - Alexia said, “A fitting service, then? I believe I already offered, but we have in-house and on-call seamstresses…”

“No. Thank you.” This time, Janet’s voice was more firm.

They followed the assistant manager to the front, where they were greeted by another sales associate. No doubt this one would know better than to be too rude to them. Though, if she followed her boss’s lead, she’d just be more subtle with her digs.

Seeing the spread of high-end clothes on such a glossy, fashionable counter made Eilidh feel… weird.

I feel like I’m an imposter - like these are costumes. But… She thought of the strange voice that spoke up in her mind. Some part of her she had always ignored. I also feel like I’m owed this. Like it’s right.

She watched her mother pay with 2 credit cards and a little bit of cash.

The cashier smirked, but said nothing.

A sudden, terrifying rush of anger colored Eilidh’s cheeks.

Her fingertips began to tremble as the emotion swelled, quickly bursting from something understandable to unbridled rage.

It was nothing like she’d ever felt before.

I don’t just want to give her a verbal lashing, I want to hurt her.

Her eyes darted from Janet, whose face was cool and as impassive as stone, to the cashier whose smug expression could have started wars.

Who are you to judge? Her mind spat the words that she refused to speak.

She struggled for a moment, not wanting to embarrass herself or her mother, but something deep inside of her just wouldn’t let it go.

Like a hot knife through butter, that strange little voice spoke up.

Then put her in her place.