Post by lennie3 on Mar 20, 2021 16:16:30 GMT
With the lights turned down in the shop area Genevieve had made herself comfortable in the back. She draped the lace over the mannequin, base of the dress already finished as she worked on the details of it. The deep purple had caught her eye and she had purchased it without considering a use for it. She rarely ever did it, and it was a fabric she hadn't kept out for the women of the ton to see, it simply was better business to keep the paler pastels out on display. When one of the married women of the ton stepped into her shop to buy a gown for themselves they would speak up about what they wanted, they didn't need to have their choices displayed. So Genevieve had kept the purple which caught her eye in the back, beginning to craft a dress from it earlier the same month, working slowly on the piece.
It hadn't been until she started the dress that she had a client in mind, though perhaps client was the wrong word for it. As it had started to come together the idea of Siena had come to mind, she had made the necessary edits needed and began creating the dress she believed her friend deserved to wear. Genevieve could afford to gift the dress to her friend, and demanding money from Siena had never felt quite right. The younger woman was naïve in her view of the world at times, hopeful and longing in ways Genevieve could only see ending in destruction and chaos. But Siena was young and surely she would go grow up and adapt, she would let go of silly fantasies and ensure her own safety above all. In the meantime Genevieve would support her, would protect her when she needed protection and provide her with the friendship she could offer.
She threaded the needle and began the stitching along the hem of the lace, creating a delicate embroidery of swirls in the lace. It was time consuming, and she could've had help doing it but, it was relaxing. The motion was repetition, knowledge drilled into her by her mother during those long days a lifetime ago when she had been her apprentice. Genevieve had spent so much time helping her mother create and mend frocks and in the dimly lit back of her shop she felt closer to the woman than she had done even in her childhood.
It hadn't been until she started the dress that she had a client in mind, though perhaps client was the wrong word for it. As it had started to come together the idea of Siena had come to mind, she had made the necessary edits needed and began creating the dress she believed her friend deserved to wear. Genevieve could afford to gift the dress to her friend, and demanding money from Siena had never felt quite right. The younger woman was naïve in her view of the world at times, hopeful and longing in ways Genevieve could only see ending in destruction and chaos. But Siena was young and surely she would go grow up and adapt, she would let go of silly fantasies and ensure her own safety above all. In the meantime Genevieve would support her, would protect her when she needed protection and provide her with the friendship she could offer.
She threaded the needle and began the stitching along the hem of the lace, creating a delicate embroidery of swirls in the lace. It was time consuming, and she could've had help doing it but, it was relaxing. The motion was repetition, knowledge drilled into her by her mother during those long days a lifetime ago when she had been her apprentice. Genevieve had spent so much time helping her mother create and mend frocks and in the dimly lit back of her shop she felt closer to the woman than she had done even in her childhood.
tag Nina Ashmore .
