Post by iliana on Oct 1, 2009 18:55:50 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Iliana Kay was quickly becoming one of the best known and most sought after seamstresses in New York City. A few years ago, she'd bought a small space in a quickly growing part of the city, she'd filled the space with hundreds of one-of-a-kind dresses and they'd started flying off the shelves too fast for her to replenish. She had decorated the space in a way that made the wolf inside her feel very at home, the walls in the receiving room were a pretty dark brown color with the trim painted a washed out white color and spread through the rest of the wall to look like trees. The walls of the store itself were a gorgeous creamy yellow color, with a darker brown running along the top and bottom. Tiny lights hung from the ceiling but they were never turned on unless it was rainy or nighttime because the natural light in the store was just beautiful on it's own.
This store was Iliana's reprieve from the rest of the world, sometimes her only reprieve. She alone had or knew where to find the sets of keys to the store, so she could go and lock herself in whenever she wanted and just avoid everyone else in the world. Which she tended to do. Her office in the back was always a controlled chaos that most people would be driven crazy by. But to Iliana it was so perfectly organized that if someone came in and moved one single piece of paper, she would know.
Iliana loved plans, and planning. So most of the papers that lay in gigantic stacks were plans, for everything. Iliana had plans for the store, plans for the next assignments she had coming up, plans for her sisters, plans for her life, plans for her sister's lives. Oh yes, Iliana was definitely plan obsessed. But you had to love her for it, anytime you didn't know what to do, when you came to a crossroads that you were stuck on, Iliana would be the one to go to. Surely she would either have a plan already sketched out for you, or she would only take a few minutes to make one.
However, she hadn't been able to plan for the popularity of her dresses. They really did get purchased too fast for her, so her boutique 'Boutique d'Iliana' was only open for sales Fridays and Saturdays(she did hold appointments there through the week however). She'd figured that would be the best days to be open because women would have just gotten their paychecks, husbands would be needing a gift for a weekend birthday celebration, last minute invitations would require a stunning new outfit, and there would Iliana be.
She was even more popular for her rarity, scores of women would line up outside her doors before she opened at five o'clock on Friday afternoon, and they would rush in as soon as she opened them. Some of them would stop to ask her to make them a dress of their own(somewhat) design, but most would just dart into the back of her tiny shop and fight for hours with each other over the best dresses in the best sizes.
Iliana, the lovely mediator that her childhood had trained her to be, would usually step in and offer these women either a different dress, or she offered them the option of getting one made especially for them, prompting several of the other women to drop the dress they hold at the time and demand their own dress as well.
By the time Friday was over, Iliana had a number of new assignments and appointments made with all of them to discuss things further, plus she had dresses littering the back of the store and a fair amount of money in her cash register. After she closed up and tidied up, Iliana would count her money and count the dresses. Then Saturday would come and she would arrive early and restock the store with the extra dresses she made just for this occasion, she knew that Friday's usually wiped her out.
And the routine would continue, more money, more appointments, more bickering between grown (and sometimes not grown) women.
But Iliana loved it, she thrived here. In fact, it was getting dark outside and it was getting to be the end of another Friday night. Iliana's cash register was nearly bursting with money, and her desk was overflowing with new appointment information, the last few customers were finding their perfect dress and trickling out of the store. She wondered briefly if she would get anymore customers tonight but focused instead on the ones she had with a smile.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES !?;; This plot template took a LONG time
STATUS !?;; Finito
TAGGED !?;; Open
WORDS !?;; 812
OUTFIT !?;; She wears a lot of black
CREDIT !?;; JADE !? @ caution 2.0 for everything but the post itself and the picture