Decisions, decisions, decisions. Diane sat at her dressing table getting ready for the big night out. She was meant to be fixing her hair but kept stopping to glance over at the row of outfits she’d chosen earlier. She knew it had been a mistake to choose so many, she should have narrowed it down to two at the most earlier. Diane tried to concentrate on her hair but her gaze kept being drawn back to the waiting dresses. Abandoning her hair she got up and walked over to the waiting clothes. She was determined to reduce the choice down to two outfits and then perhaps, she could get back to finishing her hair and doing her make-up.
Time passed slowly as she weighed the merits of the clothes she had laid out earlier. Finally she made a decision. Out went the little black-dress, too many others would favour that, she wanted to be different. On further reflection Diane realised that although she wanted to be different, she didn’t want to be that different. She didn’t want to stand out and have everyone staring at her. There was a fine line between looking original and becoming the centre of attention. This caused another dress to be discarded, this time it was a slightly risqué item, one that perhaps she couldn’t really get away with, given her figure. Catching sight of the time she turned her attention back to her hair.
In the mirror she could see her final choice of two dresses, hanging there, taunting her still. Resorting to a hand-mirror she finished drying her still damp hair. Cautiously she peeked at her image in the dressing-table mirror and was pleased to find she had got her hair just right. For a moment, clothes forgotten, she was happy and looking forward to the evening ahead. Then she started on her make-up. This brought new agonies of indecision as she wondered if she needed to tone her colouring to match the colour of the outfit she was to wear. She decided to keep things simple. Just a touch-up around the eyes and a bit of lip gloss should suffice.
Time again for the clothes. Time to make that final decision. Mum had warned her not to make things too complicated, she wished she had listened. It wasn’t a first date, nor was it a second, but it was the first time she was to meet his family and friends. So, demure but not too demure. Something with a little style. Something that would bring out her best features, her slim frame and her long ringlets. Diane took turns holding the two dresses up in front of her. First one, then the other. She kept swapping them back and forth until finally she made her decision. It had to be this one. It accentuated her slimness without making her look gawky and her hair really set it off. After all the time it had taken her she dressed impatiently, careful not to smear her make-up. She was ready and certain that it would be a wonderful night.
Written in response to the Creative Writing Ink January 3rd writing prompt competition.