Magic Fashion

By DX

Copyrighted, 4/2015, 2018, 12/2023 all rights reserved.


Eva’s eyes lit up as she held her breath.  Nervously, she watched the men raise the sign with her name boldly, delicately, emblazoned, above the wide and expensive window of her new storefront.  
Loans and debt allowed her to buy the old boutique and she wasted no time clearing it out.  Her cheeks dimpled as she set her lips and hauled crate after crate of dry-rotted fabric from the basement and tossed them out.  She found several sewing machines, embossers and embroidery, and pulled them apart.  She smelled of oil and age as she he gently chased out the spiders and dust, and refurbished the machines to go back into loyal service. 
She spackled, painted walls, waxed floors, and installed new light fixtures to be ready for her approaching opening day.
With the last of her funds she ordered some mannequins; nouveau, sleek and blank, they would be perfect for her high-tech fashions.  Faceless, shapeless, they were merely fancy hangers to show off her talent.
With one day to go, she stood at the door with a crumpled letter in her hand.
Her mannequins were on back-order.
Still defiant, she looked around slowly.  Finished outfits, haberdashery, and accessories surrounded her with nothing but boring shelves to display them on.  Her big, brown eyes blinked back a budding tear as she again descended into the basement. 
In the back corner, piled unceremoniously in an aged crate, were a collection of old mannequins.  She had dismissed them before for not being the cutting edge look she wanted, but as she pulled them out and tried to assemble a whole one, she figured she could paint them, a flat black perhaps, and they would do in a pinch.
They were busted, and cracked.  Their paint was peeling away, and mice nests filled their hollow spaces, but Eva bit back her frustration and dug into the pile.  Her hopes shrank as she only found more broken arms, legs and bodies.
Determined, she cleared the pile away.
Eyes peered back at her, green and wet, like a jungle leaf in the rain.  Shrouded in plastic, Eva lifted up the head and torso and found the arms and legs beneath.  The word, Lynnette, was embossed on the shoulder.  Her make up was from the 50’s.  Her lipstick was a coppery red, which highlighted her full lips.  Her eyes peered seductively beneath long, long black lashes, her eye-shadow was a deep burgundy.
She was bald.  Eva couldn’t find the wig, but she didn’t care as she carried the parts upstairs and assembled her.  With a sponge and soapy water, Eva bathed Lynnette and cleaned off the oily residue of dirty mouse prints to get the mannequin ready for paint.
As the sponge washed her face, Lynnette’s eyes flashed at her prettily, and Eva’s plan of spray-painting her into an anonymous model flittered out of her head.
Lynnette was beautiful.
Eva set her in the window and then spent the rest of the night putting together her paramilitary ensemble: slick midnight grey with epaulets and pocket flaps, and a nipped waist short coat that enhanced Lynnette’s perfect breasts, a revealing short skirt with cargo-pockets, and high heeled, knee length, military boots.  
As the night sky tinted with morning blue, Eva dressed Lynnette and gently slid the garments on.  Then, she laced the boots up on the mannequin’s incredibly small feet.  Last, she clasped a cargo-belt around Lynnette’s hips, slung at an angle like a gunslinger, and finished with a small leather pouch with brass enclosure, perfect for a phone and keys. 
Her eyes blinked swollen and tired as she beheld Lynnette.  Being bald, only added to her sharp, military presence.  
Eva put Lynnette’s cap on the doll’s head and the outfit was done.
She tried to stifle a yawn and failed.  As she made her way upstairs she glanced back.  Lynnette’s eyes twinkled in the early morning light.
Eva dismissed it as tiredness.
When she awoke she saw the shadows had slid across her room.  The clock told her she still had four hours to go before the opening, so she plopped back down.
And the knock came again.
She roused quickly and went down stairs.  There was a woman at the door peering through the glass, rapping incessantly.
“I’m sorry,”  Eva answered sleepily,  “we’re not open yet.”
The woman pointed at Lynnette.  “How much?  I’ll take it!”
Eva blinked.  She was still asleep, she must be.  She blearily opened the door and the woman marched in and peered at Lynnette from another angle.  She flicked her fingers and her credit card magically appeared.  “You do alterations?  I’d have the bosom let out.”
Eva hadn’t even considered a price, and as her mouth sagged open to speak, another woman blew into the shop.  “Twelve hundred!”  She brandished her credit card like a cross against vampires.
“She was first.”  Eva replied, astonished.
“Then when can I have one made?”  The second insisted.
Eva feebly pointed to a clear area.  “I’ll get your measurements.”  She then looked to the first.  “Give me a few moments and I’ll have you try it on.”
While the women discussed where they would be wearing their outfit to avoid being at the same event, Eva, still foggy from lack of sleep, stepped up into the window and undressed Lynnette.  As she did, she noted the tiny flecks of white paint in the mannequin’s eyes that gave the illusion of a bit of glint, a bit of life.  She wondered how she didn’t notice them before.
Once the women were gone, Eva quickly put together one of her designs and dressed Lynnette in time for the opening.  Local politicians, some freelance reporters, and a handful of movers and shakers showed up to get their picture taken at a ribbon cutting ceremony of a young girl and her new shop full of ambition.
And the dress Lynnette wore sold for two thousand dollars.
The sewing machine clattered like a machine gun as Eva put together another dress, a deep blue formal gown, so Lynnette wasn’t naked.  Sliding it up over Lynnette’s hips, Eva felt the hard plastic press against her as she braced the mannequin to keep it steady.
Zipping it up, Eva brushed her hand against Lynnette’s midriff to smooth out the dress and check the fit.  Satisfied, she patted Lynnette’s butt and dashed out of the store to buy a wig.  When she came back, a woman was outside the shop waiting to buy Lynnette’s dress.
Dress after dress, everything sold on Lynnette.  Even when Eva’s blank mannequins arrived, Lynnette, and her new copper red hair, sold and sold and sold.
One night, as Eva put the final touches on Lynnette’s outfit, a safari one piece with rolled up sleeves and trousers made from sweat-wicking micro-fiber, she leaned in to adjust Eva’s copper wire hair.
Lynnette’s head turned and kissed her.
Soft, warm, wet, Eva was stunned paralyzed, surely dreaming.  She must have fallen asleep at her sewing machine.  She didn’t fight as she felt Lynnette’s arms sweep up and embrace her, and pull her into a wonderful kiss.
Lynnette kissed her again.  As they parted, she flashed mirthful eyes at Eva and winked.  Eva watched her step away and look around in wonder.  She watched Lynnette touching herself, poking her soft, real flesh, cupping her boobs and jiggling them, amazed at the movement.
Shocked, Eva watched her in stunned silence.  She was so beautiful, and… alive!  Sparking to action, Eva decided to go to her and show her around the shop…
She couldn’t move!
Panic seeped into her consciousness as she tried to imagine what was going on.  She felt her skin had become plastic and her body as still as stone.

Teaser:  Will Eva become human again?  For the whole story, consider supporting us at:
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Copyrighted 3/2024, all rights reserved. May not be reproduced without author permission.
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