“You can’t get married in grey lace!”
I paused in my perusal of the wedding dresses on the rack. “Whyever not?”
“It… well, it makes you seem like…” My mother lowered her voice, in case someone might hear. “Used goods.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the dresses. “Mum, no one’s a virgin on their wedding night anymore. It’s 2012.”
My mother uttered a little shriek and stared around as though the world was eavesdropping. Her dreams of a huge white wedding for me seemed to be crumbling around her ears.
Just to see her reaction, I pulled out a gothic dress hidden at the back of the rack, a huge black monstrosity shot with red ribbons.
“What about this?”
My mother fainted.
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