Iris Hamilton emerged from her morning shower, wrapped her shapely body in a soft grey towel and wrapped another like a turban around her just-washed and sweet-smelling hair. She shuffled towards the vanity taking the bath mat with her as she went so as to not drip on immaculate white tiles. Drew an electric toothbrush from it's holder, gently squeezed a generous amount from the bottom of the tube of Everwhite and began brushing her teeth. All the time, her gaze avoiding the almost wall width mirror in front of her. She spat the foam from her mouth in neat little dollops, turned on the cold tap and rinsed, turned off the brush and tapped it three times on the side of the sink before replacing it in the holder.
Her tanned shoulders still glistening with dewy drops, she let the towel slip, gazed south and let out a sigh. Not so much that she'd let herself go over the years. She'd travelled, loved, lived and lost but she was sick of the farm and ageing gracefully, was not her thing. Her once pert breasts now dangled southwards and a belly once firm and taught was pot and rounded. She raised her head and eyebrows, contorted her mouth from side to side. Checked each profile of her face and measured her imaginary double chin with her mind.
"How the hell did this happen?"
"What's that?" Her husband Dave, stirred from the bed in need of a pee. "What are you mumbling about?"
"Look at me!" The instruction rather comical as Dave wiped the sleep from his eyes and scratched his balls beneath ill fitting board shorts.
"You're hot love. You should get naked more often."
Dave moved to embrace her before she ducked his attempt and again wrapped the grey towel around her ample bosom.
He lifted the lid to the toilet, something he rarely did unless in her presence, and began to pee - loudly. She continued to preen beneath the harsh mirror light, oblivious or perhaps just used, to his morning ablutions.
"I don't mind too much Dave." She continued, "it's just I've got this bloody school reunion next week. People are coming from all over the shop. People I haven't seen for 15 years! Just this once, I'd like to look like a semblance of my girlish self. And that little black number I bought specially, is about two sizes too small!"
The toilet flushes and he moves in behind her and puts his arms around her waist.
"You look fine. Best heifer in my herd! I'll shout you a new frock, give that one to the Salvos. Gotta go milk."
Despite his morning breath, she smiles and reaches a hand to brush his cheek but he's already disengaged and heading out towards the dairy. Iris continues to talk to the mirror.
"Whatever, I'd still like to wow that Carolyn Sutherland, skinny cow."
The Seventh Goddess is taking shape as stock is displayed. A window full of tempting teasers and super shapers is splashed with lace and colour. Venetian masks smatter between the mannequins and add an exotic touch. Harsh wooden floors have been painted and adorned with plush rugs and racks and racks of pretty things dangle from 32A through to 40DD, matching knickers, slips and suspenders all displayed in order of their spectrum colours, the whole shop looks like a rainbow, bright and inviting.
Iris is placing an advertisement in the window, "Spanx make you two sizes smaller", and a picture of a woman her age, in a dress like hers with a hand on one shapely hip and a smile the size of Queensland has her wondering.
"I was wondering about the slimming thing that we're advertising in the window?"
"Well I can tell you, they work. Not terribly comfortable but yes, if you don't mind a bit of firm constriction, they're handy for a wedding or evening dress. Just hold onto your bladder! They're a bitch to take off for a pee.
"Can I try one? I have a school reunion next week and can barely fit into the dress I bought."
She chose the flesh coloured legless suit, with crotch opening and stepped into its constrictive leg holes which immediately became stuck at thigh height. Iris' body began 'glistening' again, without the added benefit of just stepping from a shower. Hoicking it up above her waist, beads of sweat emerged from her flawless brow as she ceased momentarily to catch her breath.
"Done it!" She triumphantly yelled before Reya's assistance was required.
Thirty minutes after the ordeal, Iris emerged triumphant.
"I'll take it but it hurts like Hell."
The pain was worth the result and that perfect, flawless Caroline Sutherland would be 'wowed' by the shapely figure of her old high school nemesis. Reya laughed and wrapped the implement of torture in tissue paper.
"Are you wearing it with something special?"
Iris relayed the story as Freya's well manicured hands fingered more 'feminine' lingerie on a nearby stand.
"Well I wish you luck and hope you have a wonderful time. Reunions can be fun and rarely as horrendous as you think. I'm sure you'll look lovely. Just don't try to sit down for too long, the blood will rush to your head!"
Reya took a Jacaranda lilac bra and panties from the rack.
"Here, something for when you don't need to impress anyone but yourself or perhaps someone else?"
Iris was stunned. Even working in the shop, she'd never 'upgraded' to anything so pretty.
"They're gorgeous but I never wear things like that."
"Now's your time to shine for the right person," Reya replied, " . . on the house
"Thanks Reya, it's a lovely gift. Perhaps Dave will appreciate them."
"Well then. You had nothing to worry about. I love you just the way you are, jelly belly and southern pointing boobs and all. Then I like cows. Let's hit the sack." He planted a playful slap on her left cheek.
Published for the River of Mnemosyne Challenge.