"So," Violet went on, "we decided to make real undergarments that really work on real women. And when Ash started designing it, I told him to make it sexy."
"I wanted to make it affordable," I added. "Look, as a guy, I know that a lot of this stuff is for a special occasion, am I right? Anniversary nights, a hot date, or things like that?"
"Amen!" Bev said - then slapped her hand over her mouth.
Emily was giggling. "Yeah, but I'm not about to spend fifty bucks on a bra I wear once."
So I posed and twisted before them. "I will have you know that my designer underwear costs me fifty bucks." Then I lifted my shirt to show off the Ralph Lauren logo along the waistband. "Most of you pay almost that for a cheap bra, right?"
They all began to nod, so Violet pulled out the first item. I let her have it, moving to claim a spot on the couch beside Emily. She smiled at me, and then looked back at what Violet was showing off. It was a wireless bra with full support, but built to be pretty. It was also in a size 40DD. The fabric was a tan on pink flower pattern. The colors were close enough to nude to work under most fabrics, which Violet showed them. Then she asked if anyone wore that size.
A woman at the side admitted that she did. Violet tossed the bra to her, still with the tags on it.
"Then that must clearly be for you," she said. "Wear it. Let us know how you like it. No strings attached."
The woman looked at the tag. "It says it's ten bucks!"
"Care to share your panty size?" Violet asked, moving to another box. "Small, medium, large, extra-large, or... Um, we have up to 4X."
"It's a 2x," the woman said, making a face.
Violet found the matching panties and tossed them over as well. "Ash, want to explain the design? That's one of yours, right?"
"It is," I admitted. "You see, for lean women like Violet, we want high-cut sides to create the illusion of curves. No offense, beautiful."
"None taken," Violet assured me.
"But," I went on, "for women who actually have curves, what happens is that the fabric rolls, or your skin bunches. Muscles, flesh, and other bits of human get pushed the wrong way, and you end up looking in the mirror and feeling fat. You have lumps you don't want and bumps that do not feel sexy. Instead, I angled the waistband, cut the openings for your legs to have room to move while still keeping the lady bits in place, and used fabric that will shift with your body. The end result is comfort and a silhouette that is smooth and attractive."
"I'm still going to look plus-sized in this," the woman pointed out.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," I countered. "Does anyone here have a cat?" I turned, including everyone in my question and quite a few nodded. "Ok, so you see those lean, sleek, lithe kitties, and they look so graceful." I gestured to Violet. "Or you have the healthy ones that are so shiny and beautiful, looking like the smoothest killing machines in the world." I gestured to Maisie as an example. "Older cats are a little more regal but just as gorgeous." This time it was Bev. "But my favorite has always been the chonks. Those soft, round kitties with the happy faces and the curvaceous bellies. They are beautiful cats, and I never look at them and think they're gross. I just think they're a cat. The same is true for women. We just have to convince you ladies that it's true. The problem is that there's too much money in making you want to change yourself."
"Diet pills," Emily said. "I've used 'em."
"And tanning lotion, anti-wrinkle creams, and so on," I said. "If your clothes don't fit, then you buy something to make you fit in the box the worldwantsyou to fit in. I'm trying to make clothing that lets you out of the box. Bras that hold the girls where they need to be. Athletic clothes that don't turn see-through when you bend over. Undergarments that lift and enhance without cutting into your skin and making you rip it off the moment you get home. Lingerie that will have your boyfriends and husbands waiting for you to get home from work so they can throw you in bed." I gestured to the boxes. "And I'm hoping that all of you are willing to be my guinea pigs."
For the rest of the night, Violet did nothing but give away thousands of dollars worth of lingerie. The women asked questions, brought up problems, and dared me to find solutions. I tried. In most cases, I had something ready to show them. When I didn't, I made notes. Somewhere in there, the ladies all started giggling.
Someone mentioned how her husband liked garters, but she hated them. Violet had something for her to try. Someone else mentioned corsets and how big of a pain it was to get them off, but that it was a sure-fire way to get her husband into bed. Someone else said that nothing she wore would get her man worked up anymore.
"Then try wearing nothing," I said, not even thinking about it. "I mean, that always works for me when my man does it."
And one of the girls squealed in delight. That was when the last of their reservations fled and I became "one of the girls." Cessily told me that I still needed to make neon panties for her. I tried to say they wouldn't sell, but the women in the room disagreed. What had started off a little tense turned into a whole lot of fun, and everyone had a great time.
Everyone except Jodi. For the rest of the night, she sat in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, pouting. Yeah, I enjoyed it a little too much. Talk about the perfect end to the night.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The lingerie party at Bev's lasted longer than I thought. When Faith and Zeke got quiet in her room, I went to check, only to find the kids passed out together on her bed. I woke them up long enough to get them in pajamas, then told Zeke he could stay here for the night. Faith gave him a pair of her shorts to sleep in, and surprisingly, the boy had no problem wearing them.
When the women finally made it home, I told Emily he was out. Together, we went up to check, only to find the kids sleeping hard with Sissy tucked between them like a communal teddy bear. Emily said she'd bring over some clothes for Zeke to wear in the morning, and that was that. My daughter was having her first sleepover with a friend, and it was a boy. Somehow, that felt oddly right to me.
On Friday, Mike texted me to say he'd found a car. He didn't have Violet's number, but he sent a few pictures and wanted her to know that he just had to change the oil, put on some tires, and detail the whole thing. He'd also come in under budget, by right around four thousand dollars. I told him to hang on to the extra, because Violet would likely do it again. Then I brought up Emily's worn-out tires. Mike said he'd be happy to trade out the new car for Emily's, give it a tune-up and tires, and let us know when it was ready. Sounded like a win-win to me, so I decided he should do it.
And while I told Violet about that - plus Ash and Cy - I "forgot" to say anything to Emily. Instead, I sent Berto down to her house with a set of spare keys to my blue truck and directions to use it whenever she needed, since it was an extra. When he came home, he was beaming, saying he'd gotten one hell of a hug. Yep, the man was definitely into her, but when I asked, he tried to play it off, saying he was too busy to think about dating. Neither of us believed it.
But after school, Meredith came to pick up Faith for their scheduled weekend together. Faith did not want to go. Meredith tried to act like I was the one putting that idea in her head, but Faith was having none of it.
