She was on a mission as she browsed through the racks at Dolce & Gabbana, looking for two outfits:
1) One that says, "Tonight is my 21st birthday. That's right. I'm richer and better than all of you, and I'm only 21."
2) And one that says, "Dear stepmother, you had me kidnapped and tried to kill me, but I survived. And now I am coming for you."
If only dresses on the rack were categorized like greeting cards, this would be a much easier task. She pulled out a tight blood red and black dress that may perfectly communicate the latter message with the right makeup and styling. She held it to her body as she inspected it in the mirror - she looked fabulous, as per usual. Severe, perhaps, but no level of severity would be too severe for this message.
"You there," Veronica cooed to another girl in the store. Eye contact and introductions unnecessary. "What do you think?"
Saint Sergio