1927. Young women are thriving with their newfound independence and having fun.
Except that isn't the case for free spirited Brooke Dashwood. Being an heiress to a wealthy company run by her overbearing and temperamental father, she must live by th...
I basked in the many glories of having the pleasure of seeing so many gorgeous and fun designs at my fingertips. Having barely an hour left of sweet freedom by now that had felt like it was flying by so quickly, Julian kept helping me speedily decide which ones I should try on and buy.
In order to decide on exactly that, we had put it into what we collectively called a 'dance test'—which just meant they were a keeper if I could move in them better.
So, trying on the third pair we had been eyeing after the first two failed miserably and I fell yet again, Julian grasped one of my hands as we began kicking our feet back and forth.
And before I knew it, I finally began to accomplish the first baby steps I was trying to do earlier of the beloved 'Charleston' bop.
God, he was so dashing when he became so in control of my body like this.
And though I wasn't no pro by any means within a few hours, having him as a partner was making me remarkably feel good about this after all.
"Well, well, well! Who knew you had a dancing bone in you?" He professed, giving me a short twirl.
"Maybe the music just speaks to me." I shrugged.
"What music?" He laughed.
I then smiled—feeling proud that we didn't need any.
But as we looked further ahead to see Ronald from the shop's window, he held up his pocket watch he had kept in his hand, pointing toward it cautiously.
Looking over at the time on the wall, his expression was justified.
I had only twenty minutes to go.
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"I can't believe you really spent the rest of your old man's clams on yourself! I'm so proud of you babycakes!" Julian shouted.
Five minutes later after we left, we had gone in and out of a few dress shops nearby—holding several bags in our hands of new outfits I had personally picked out. And for once, they were all much shorter than anything I've ever owned.
No sleeves. No sweaters. No layers. Just the way I like my body in water. Free and light.
I laughed as my cheeks turned red at his sweet compliment. "Thank you! Thank you! It was nothing, really!" I playfully uttered, actually feeling quite proud of myself too for a moment. He chuckled. "Though, thank God the old man won't hardly notice it's gone either way. What I had was chump change compared to what he makes on a daily basis thanks to his cop friends."
"Hey, a win's a win the way I see it! It's like you're becoming a new person. A better person that is. I'd do the same if I were you!" He assured me.
I blushed happily, eternally grateful for his words of support.
But just as we began to be on our way back to the sad reality of life—and though I could feel myself becoming much happier for just a couple of hours with Julian, I still felt like something else needed to be done to become the very best person and dancer I knew I could be.
Sure, I had picked out what I thought was best for my size without trying any on due to our time crunch, but for the overall look and appeal...I didn't know how it would work well on a gal like me. I didn't even know where to start to make it all come together as I continued watching more flappers in passing.
However, they were definitely paying me no mind and more rightfully so toward Julian's presence while I continued to study their posture, their edge, and their confidence.
A confidence I wished I possessed that I knew I didn't have just yet.
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I wonder how she's gonna get that confidence. Or should I say...WHO should she go to in order to get that level of confidence? A former flapper, maybe???
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