to make me look like this. A solid month of training. I hoped I could live up to the role of The Violet Dame.
My palms were sweating and I took in a deep breath to calm myself.
My hair was longer than it used to be thanks to the extensions glued to my scalp. My roots were black while blending into a stunning and vivid grape color. I wore it in waves down my back and it was so lengthy that it almost reached my butt.
During this time, Ettie had taught me how to do my makeup, which was a struggle, I’m sure. I wasn’t exactly a makeup connoisseur but Ettie had the patience of a saint and eventually I was able to apply winged liner without looking like a member of Kiss. It certainly helped my look that I now had eyelash extensions.
Who knew they were a thing?
I hadn’t.
A full set of Russians lined my eyes, the thickest and fullest of all the sets available, and I would reluctantly admit that they framed my blue eyes nicely.
Contouring. Baking. Setting. I knew it all and practiced every day, blending eye shadow, experimenting to see what worked. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy playing around with all the cool color palettes I’d been given. It was fun and it made me feel feminine for the first time in my life.
I spent this month doing a hundred squats twice a day until my butt burned and although I couldn’t see much of a difference, Amber insisted my ass looked great and that all my hard work was paying off. Almost every morning was spent doing Pilates with The Vixens.
My wardrobe consisted of mostly latex dresses and today was my first time wearing one in public. The bodycon dress was a plum color with black trim and spaghetti straps, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It held my breasts high, plumped up perkily, and the swell of my bosom was soft. However, it was all too noticeable that I wasn’t wearing a bra. It came to midthigh and, as Amber had predicted, underwear was not an option with this particular style of dress. Even a thong was noticeable and looked tacky…
Said the woman wearing a latex dress.
Oy vey.
I checked my reflection one last time. My teeth were whiter than ever thanks to a dental clinic Amber had pulled some strings to get me into, and my lips were slightly overlined, giving my already thick lips a fuller appearance. My cupid’s bow was mildly accentuated and the lipstick I wore was called Midnight Dream.
You could call it whatever you wanted, really. I didn’t change what it was.
It was black.
I was wearing black lipstick.
Nervously, I picked at my nail and looked down, remembering the full set of acrylics I now had. My nails were long, coffin-shaped, and as black as my lipstick. My toes were painted to match.
Swallowing hard, I prayed I wouldn’t trip and fall in the ridiculously high, black, peep-toe, six-inch pumps. At my wrist was a rose gold Michael Kors watch. I wore no other jewelry apart from the rose gold diamond studs in my ears.
Looking out at the waiting paparazzi, I turned to The Vixens and uttered my famous last words. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay, now,” said Amber from the front seat, “keep your head up but don’t speak. Not a word. Not today. And no smiling. A little Mona Lisa smirk is okay. Remember, we’re thinking badass. No slouching. You want to give off an air of confidence, babe. Let The Vixens talk. We’ll give them an inch and make them beg for a mile.” She then grinned. “You really do look great, Emmy.”
I smiled. I felt awkward but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel thrilling to walk out in public sans bra and underwear, wearing the tightest dress known to man. “Thanks. I’ll try not to let you down.”
Her confidence in me was touching. “You won’t. You’re ready.”
The Vixens exchanged nervous but excited glances and Cherry nodded. “We’re good.” She peered over at me. “You good?”
My smile was small. “Yep. Let’s go.”
Cherry knocked on the window and the door opened. Almost instantly, lights began flashing and people started to call out. Cherry stepped out and fans started to cheer. Ettie went next, then Pearl, and before she left the car, Beth turned back and laughed excitedly. “Oh my God, this never gets old!”